


Love & Great Buildings

by winterisakiller (sparkinside)



Series: Last Minutes &  Lost Evenings [9]
Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Communcation issues, F/M, Jealousy, Past Relationship(s), Second Chances, Strained Friendships, Tom is a bit of a tit, slightly AU, working through issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2019-10-08 00:43:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 70,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17376269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkinside/pseuds/winterisakiller
Summary: Three years have passed and a chance encounter brings Tom and Rosie together again. Can time make any difference or are they doomed to repeat past mistakes?





	1. ONE

**Author's Note:**

> So here begins the next part of the story of Tom and Rosie. It will be a journey so bear with me. I know where this ends, but the real fun, as they say, is in the getting there. 
> 
> Thanks so much to [RedKitsune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedKitsune/pseuds/RedKitsune) for allowing me to ramble on about this story and for letting me bounce ideas off of you, you are a lifesaver, even if your stories break my heart.

**CHAPTER ONE**

 

Rosemary Mathews found herself glancing once again at the clock hanging on the far wall. It was utterly ridiculous how time seemed to have come to a standstill. _How can it only have been five minutes? Surely at least an hour’s past_.

The stack of papers on her desk was still dreadfully high. Bills, invoices, projection figures. If she stared at them for a moment longer she feared she’d lose what was left of her mind. What had she been thinking? Tackling the online market had been one thing. Though she still had nightmares about web design…

But another physical store?

She dropped her head into her hands and groaned. “God, I must have lost my mind.”

“Can’t lose what you never had!” Jules’ voice sounded from the hall. Rosemary had to stifle a laugh. Trust Jules to add levity to any situation, especially when it was sorely needed.

“Some friend you are!” She retorted, giving up the ghost and pushing her chair back from the desk. She needed to walk away, if only for a short while, or she would certainly go mad. And while she knew Jules had everything to hand up front, showing her face around never hurt.

Jules was perched on the edge of the front counter, a magazine laying half open beside her, when Rosemary emerged from the back. “You love my honesty, don’t lie.” Jules smirked, kicking her feet back and forth.

She narrowed her eyes, pointedly glaring at Jules’ swinging legs. “I don’t recall paying you to lounge about.”

Jules stuck out her tongue. With a roll of her eyes, Rosemary playfully smacked her in the back of the head. Mock outrage flooded Jules’ face and she reached up to rub the back of her head. “Oy! Watch it!”

Rosemary looked around the front room; a woman was browsing through the non-fiction section and an older gentlemen was holding two cookbooks in his hands, seeming to debate which one was worthy of purchase. Otherwise the store was empty. There had been a handful of customers in the morning but that had trickled off come midday. It was just after the New Year, and the lull was not completely unexpected. They’d done a fair run right up until Christmas and had come out ahead, which was no small feat. The slowness would pass, it always seemed to. Thankfully online sales seemed to be holding steady, so no matter what they would be fine, at least for the time being. But still Rosemary was trying, very desperately, not to panic. Maybe she’d been a bit too ambitious…

“No, Rose,” Jules warned, snapping Rosemary’s attention back into the present. “Stop it. I know that look. We’re fine. You’re fine. Relax.”

“Easier said than done.” Rosemary sighed, leaning against the counter. “I know,” she started again, hands raised to stop Jules’ protest. “I know we’re fine. I’ve been over the books and so has Evan. This is a risk but there is every chance it will pay off. I’m just having cold feet.”

Jules laughed in earnest. “You overthink, my dear.” She hopped off the counter and with a knowing look walked over to help the man with the cookbook dilemma.

 

___

 

With the front door shut firmly behind her, Rosemary collapsed, gratefully, onto her couch and let out a sigh of relief. Exhaustion weighed down her limbs and all she wanted to do was sleep. _Maybe for the next few years_. She sighed at the thought. _God, if only_. She refused to let herself think about the massive amount of work still awaiting her attention back at _Stories Untold_.

Groaning with the effort, she pushed herself up from the couch and stumbled towards the kitchen when her stomach growled making its presence known. It had been a long time since lunch and her body protested violently at her lack of self-care. But there had been far too much to do and eating had been the very last thing on her mind. She glared at the contents of her refrigerator; a wilting head of lettuce, a quart of milk, and a bottle of white wine. _Take-away it is then. And a serious round of shopping tomorrow. Lest I starve and waste away to nothing._

With a handful of menus in hand she settled herself back onto the couch to sort through her options. She shook her head at her own laziness, but she hadn’t felt the need to bother with cooking recently. After her things had fallen apart with Adam six months ago it had been simply easier to call for a pizza or a curry than to spend any effort in putting together a meal.

It had been a mutual end; she’d loved Adam but it hadn’t been enough. His transfer to a company in America had only sealed that for her. He hadn’t asked her to come with him and she, in return, couldn’t asked him to stay. She missed him, missed his company, especially at times like this. He’d been great to bounce ideas off of and wonderful at helping to keep her grounded. They had been a good team, but in the end it wasn’t enough. So they’d agreed to part. It had been painful, letting go of the life they had started to build together, but she had done it.

She’d struggled, at first, to find her footing again. They’d been together for a year and a half, had talked about finding a place together, building a future; but it hadn’t worked out. She was disappointed but, in the end, hadn’t really been surprised. Relationships just did not seem to mesh with her life; at least not in the recent past.

When she and Bryan had ended, Rosemary had felt defeated but not heartbroken. She’d cared for him, but she didn’t love him and that wasn’t fair to either of them. She had far too much baggage and dragging him along had been cruel. He’d understood; he always seemed to understand, that just seemed to make it worse.

And then she’d been alone. That had suited her, let her work through her own issues and simply enjoy being Rosemary again. Adam had come along when she least expected it. And unlike with Bryan she didn’t try to fight it. And it had been wonderful, she wouldn’t have traded any moment of it for the world. But that too had come to an end.

She groaned and tossed the menus beside her on the couch. She was so tired that even thinking about making a decision hurt. Eyes closed she grabbed the nearest menu. A local Indian take-away. “Curry it is then.”

Order placed, Rosemary curled herself into a comfortable ball and flipped on the television. She settled on a baking program that was nearing the finale; all tension and action. _Perfect_.

 

___

 

Rosemary took a deep breath, to steel herself. It was going to be a long day and she knew that she needed to keep herself grounded if she was ever going to make it through. She closed the file on her desk and glanced again at the invitation to its right. The white embossed paper had been both the bane of her existence and a source of great pride.

It was to a relatively large local charity event benefiting children’s literacy and the arts. _Stories Untold_ was involved in the auction portion on the event. And as such Rosemary was invited to attend. It was a great honor and would be fantastic publicity for the shop, especially with the expansion underway. She would have been a fool to turn it down.

When the invitation came Jules had wasted no time at all in dragging Rosemary dress shopping. She’d good naturedly grumbled as she’d been handed dress after dress. It had taken three stores and far too many hours before they’d settled on ‘the one’. A red sleeveless number with a modest hem and a daring neckline. It was far more than she usually spent but it would work wonderfully for the event. And she felt utterly divine in it, though she was loathe to admit that to Jules, _give her an inch and the bloody woman takes 10 miles…_

She glanced at the clock and groaned. The store was due to open in twenty minutes, Jules and Tyler, the shop’s newest employee, were manning the main sales floor, leaving Rosemary firmly ensconced in the back going over the latest projections for the next month and plans for the second location. They’d settled on a site and had jumped through the necessary hoops to secure the funding and permits. They were scheduled to start set up within the next three weeks. She’d already interviewed three perspective new employees and she had planned to leave Jules to head the main store while she worked to get the new location on its feet.

_This is going to be a very, very long day._

By mid-afternoon, Rosemary was ready to pull her hair out. She’d spent most of the morning on the phone arguing once again with the shippers they had hired. Yet another late shipment and yet another flimsy excuse.

She had never been more grateful to see Jules standing in the office doorway. “Lunch?”

“Oh God yes, please?” Rosemary pushed herself away from the desk. She made quick work gathering her coat and bag. With a quick wave to Tyler, she followed her friend out into the brisk January afternoon.

They ended up at the small coffee shop across the street; they had come across it several years before and found the sandwiches delightful. They always said they would branch out and try somewhere new, possibly the small bistro that opened a few streets down, but never seemed to actually follow through. Oh well, there was always tomorrow.

Sipping her coffee, she let herself start to relax. It was a false sense of calm, to be sure, but a welcome one at least. There was still a massive amount of paperwork awaiting her and then an evening of schmoozing and networking. _But that’s later_ , she reasoned with herself. _Plenty of time to worry about it later_.

“You excited for tonight?” Jules’ eyes were bright and she watched Rosemary intently. She was nearly vibrating out of her chair with not so suppressed excitement.

Rosemary shrugged. “Yes and no.” She took another sip of coffee to gather her thoughts. “This is a big deal. It’s a fantastic cause and its great exposure for us. But the idea of spending hours in heels is not my idea of a good time.”

“Maybe you’ll meet someone…” Jules offered, wriggling her eyebrows.

“Yeah,” she shot back, “Or not. Really Jules, I think that after everything with Adam I’m ready to just be for a while.”

Jules nodded in understanding. “Fair enough.” She took a bite of her sandwich and looked pointedly at her friend. “But it can’t hurt to look.” She held her hand up to cease Rosemary’s protest. “I’m not saying you have to _do_ anything. But looking…”

Rosemary picked off a small piece of bread from her sandwich and chucked it at Jules’ head. “Hush.”

“Never,” Jules shot back with a self-satisfied grin. “Not going to happen.”

 

___

 

Rosemary smoothed her dress over her hips and smiled. She felt beautiful, slightly out of her comfort zone, but lovely nonetheless. She was grateful for the hair and makeup appointment Jules had good-naturedly bullied her into making. She looked stunning. It was something that she would not have been able to reproduce with any level of accuracy on her own.

The hire car, she still couldn’t wrap her head around _that_ , would be there in less than fifteen minutes. She paced around the living room, torn between excitement and panic. This was a large event and an even bigger deal for both her and her business. A bit of panic was warranted she tried to reason with herself. She felt a bit like Cinderella and she half feared what midnight would bring.

The gala was in full swing, music and conversation swelling through the crowded room by the time she’d arrived. Rosemary slowly sipped her glass of wine, watching the various people milling about. The auction was set to start in forty minutes time and she hoped the wine would help settle her nerves. She’d recognized several faces in the crowd and found herself more than a little star-struck. _Well Mathews_ , she laughed to herself, _here’s to not making a complete and utter twat of yourself_.

She made her way around the room, stopping to chat with various guests and hosts alike. As she talked and carried on she found herself slowly relaxing and simply enjoying herself.

“Rosie?”

She froze in mid conversation one of the benefactors of the event. Taking a steadying breath, she turned and found Tom standing behind her. His eyes were radiating warmth tinged with a sense of uncertainty and disbelief. She marveled at the picture he made; hair neat and trimmed, a fashionable day and a half’s worth of stubble on his cheeks and chin, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, dark suit cut perfectly to his lithe frame. He’d always been gorgeous and time, it seemed, had certainly done wonders for him.

“Tom,” she whispered in reply. “Hello.” A small involuntarily smile broke across her features.

She’d found herself wondering, from time to time, over the three years since they’d last spoken how she’d react if she saw him again; what she’d feel. If she’d be happy or angry or indifferent. And now that she was face to face with him she couldn’t deny how, underneath the uncertainty and nervousness, nice it was to just see him again.

He offered a grin of his own in response and she taken aback at the way it seemed to light his face. She had nearly forgotten just how handsome he was when he smiled. “Hi,” he echoed, “I thought that it might have been you, but I wasn’t sure. You look incredible.”

She tried, but ultimately did not succeed in, fighting the blush that crept across her features. “Thank you. You clean up quite nicely yourself.”

The cleared throat that sounded behind her brought Rosemary out of her daze. She whirled around, apologizing profusely for her rudeness.

He waved her off. “Oh it’s quite alright. I see you and Mr. Hiddleston are already acquainted.”

She nodded, “Yes…We met several years ago. Though it’s been a while since we’ve talked.”

Tom smiled graciously and offered his hand. “Harold, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Rosemary watched the two men get reacquainted; discussing the charity and its impact and their mutual goals for the coming year. She found herself swept up in the passion of the conversation. She’d almost forgotten how passionate Tom was. No, that was a lie. She’d not forgotten more like she’d purposefully not thought on it. It was a wonderful sight, regardless.

Sensing that she’d lost both of her conversation partners to each other, Rosemary quietly excused herself and entered back into the fray of the evening. This was her night and she had every intention of enjoying it.

 

___

 

“For our next item up for bid we have a first edition of…” He held up said book, showing it to the room at large, “donated by _Stories Untold_ , an independent bookseller in central London. Let’s start the bidding at…”

Rosemary found herself reflexively holding her breath. She glanced nervously around the room, feeling more than a little foolish at her ridiculousness. It was not like she’d be graded on how well her donation did at auction.

“Breath.”

She flinched, clutching a hand to her chest. Tom had settled quietly into the opened seat beside hers and in the process, seemed, in her mind, to steal ten years off her lifespan. “Seriously, Tom. Wear a bell!”

He grinned, “Sorry. It wasn’t my intention to frighten you.” He’d rested his hand over hers and she did not bother to move it.

“It’s fine. I’m just being ridiculous.” She shrugged and smiled self-deprecatingly. “How are you?”

If Tom was taken aback by her random question he hid it well. He simply continued smiling and rubbed her hand. “I’ve been well. Busy but well. You?”

She returned his smile, “I’ve been well too. Shop’s doing well. We’re actually in the process of expanding.”

“Really? That’s amazing. Congratulations! I’m so very pleased for you.”

The conversation between them, though superficial, was pleasant. Rosemary hadn’t really realized just how much she’d missed just simply _talking_ with Tom. They could, and very easy had in the past, talked for hours about anything. Knowing that wasn’t lost was an elating feeling.

The evening wore on around them but neither seemed to take much notice. They’d interacted with others around them but always seemed to gravitate back to each other. Rosemary did her best not to think too much on what was happening between them and what, if anything, it meant. She tried to let herself live in that moment and simply pretend to be catching up with an old friend. Because that was all Tom could be. No matter what her heart seemed to protest.

“It was lovely seeing you again.” Tom stood awkwardly aside as she gathered her wrap and headed for the door. Her driver had texted that he’d pulled in at the side of the building and Rosemary knew her fairy tale was coming rapidly to a close. _Just as well. It’s gone midnight and I’m liable to turn back into a pumpkin at any moment_.

She nodded. “Yeah it was, Tom.” And she had meant it. “Thank you for a pleasant evening. Take care of yourself, okay?”

He cautiously opened his arms and, without letting herself overthink the matter, Rosemary stepped into them, taking the warm hug he offered. It was brief and innocent but she couldn’t deny she felt comfortable in his embrace. That she had _missed_ it. And that would certainly never do. _Stop it. Just stop it_.

“Goodnight, Rosie.”


	2. TWO

**CHAPTER TWO**

 

“So, how was it?” Jules fired as Rosemary pushed her way into _Stories Untold_ the next morning.

She shot the tall redhead a glare which softened upon seeing the mug of coffee that had been thrust in her direction. She grabbed it and took a grateful sip. _Caffeine,_ she mused. _Heaven._

Seeing Rosemary’s shoulders relax, Jules plowed onward. “Details. I need details. Did you have fun? How much did we raise? Did you talk to anyone famous?” Her eyes had taken on the manic gleam that Rosemary customarily saw only during the run up to a major holiday sales run or anticipated date nights. There was little that could be done to soften the fervor, but it might be postponed…

Rosemary threw her free hand up in plaintive surrender. “One question at a time, Jules, please. My blood caffeine level is not up to your rapid fire demands just yet. Take pity on me.” 

A sigh was Jules only answer and Rosemary took the welcome reprieve as a chance to finish her coffee and actually place her belongings in the office. And once her coffee had been finished and her purse and coat secured, she’d surrendered wholly to Jules’ excited frenzy.

Yes, it had been a rather nice time. And yes, she had in fact rubbed elbows with more than a few well knowns. Jules had been particularly interested in her chat with Colin Firth. And yes, they’d managed to raise a great deal more readies than either of them had anticipated. Jules beamed, demanding as many details as Rosemary could remember. She’d indulged as best she could while they filled the register and readied the store for opening. 

Rosemary did not, however, once mention her encounter with Tom. While Jules had cooled in her dislike over the years, Rosemary hadn’t felt the need to rock the boat. Besides, the chances of another run in were slight. They, after all, had managed to avoid one another over the last three years; bringing up him at this juncture would be foolish.

The sales through lunch were stronger than she’d expected. And once Evan had come in, Rosemary had retired to the back to wage war on the seemingly never-ending paperwork in the back office. Orders in particular had become her pet project of the week. She’d managed to get a quarter of the way through the next months’ proposed work up for both stores when distraction reared its head.

“Have you seen the pictures?” Jules voice carried from the hallway. “From the gala?”

Rosemary looked at Jules with momentary confusion. “Pictures?” Then sense came flooding back. Charity event. Photographers. Of course there had been pictures. “God, sorry. Still not firing on all cylinders. I take it I’m in some?” She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Academically, she’d known it was a possibility but hadn’t really taken the time to think it through.

Jules cocked an eyebrow. “Not a lot.” She paused to fish something from her pocket. “Though I must say, I am practically green with envy over this one with you and Colin Firth.” She held up her phone and flashed said photograph.

Rosemary grabbed the phone and studied the shot briefly before handing it back. “Huh. Not too shabby.” It was a nice photograph. She’d looked remarkably put together and not at all discomposed; a feat indeed considering who she’d been standing next to. He was Mr. Darcy after all. With a shake of her head she returned her attention to the latest order sheet.

Jules, however, remained in the doorway in silence for several moments. Rosemary could feel her eyes burning into the back of her head. “Yes?”

“Tom was there.” It was a statement, not a question.

Rosemary sighed. “Yes, he was. We bumped into each other before the auction.”

“And you didn’t see fit to mention this because…”

“It wasn’t anything major. We saw each other, made small talk. What else was I supposed to do? Avoiding him or flat out refusing to speak to him would create more questions than it was worth. Besides it’s been three years. It’s water under the bridge.”

Jules looked less than convinced. “You are in a few. With him.”

“Oh?” She hoped her tone did not belie the disconcerting feeling that flooded through her. “He was at my table for a spell. We chatted. I guess it was bound to happen.”

“Rose…”

She sighed and dropped the papers still in her hand onto the desk “Jules, honey, I’m fine. It wasn’t nearly as bad as I had feared it would be. We were both adults and handled ourselves accordingly. No harm, no foul.”

Jules narrowed her eyes but did not utter a word.

Rosemary shook her head, “I know what you’re thinking, but really I’m okay. I moved on, we both have. He’s not a horrible person, he never was. We just don’t work. And that’s okay.”

“I know, Rose. I know. I just…You know what, never mind.” She shook her head and relaxed her shoulders. “I’m going to head back out there and make sure Evan’s not being eaten alive.” She smiled.

Rosemary shook her head, laughing as well. “Don’t bother; a little chaos is good for him. Builds character.”

“I’ll just let him know you said that. I’m sure it’ll be a comfort as he nurses his wounds.”

She laughed in earnest and shifted her attention back to the waiting forms. “He’ll deal.”

 

___

 

“Can you move that display about a foot and a half to the left?” With a good natured groan Max, the newest edition to the _Stories Untold_ family, shifted the display, again. Rosemary studied it critically and then smiled. “Perfect.”

The newest _Stories_ location had been officially open for a week and, save for a few minor hiccups, had been running smoothly. Sales looked promising and foot traffic was slow but steady. And while Jules’ reports showed that the main store was holding its own, Rosemary still felt the familiar flutter of unease. 

It was silly, she knew, and most days she could pay it rather little mind. This would be her first major change to the business she’d loved and cherished fiercely since she’d taken sole ownership seven years prior. She wanted this to succeed; wanted it desperately.

“You sure? Like completely, 100%, can’t be any surer, sure?” Max raised his sandy eyebrow which pulled a hearty laugh from everyone in the room and a quirked eyebrow from Rosemary.

“Watch your cheek, young man.” The laughter in her eyes belied her stern tone. She shook her head and sighed. “Yes. I’m sure. Now, back to the stock room with you; those boxes aren’t going to stock themselves.” Max grumbled good-naturedly as he lumbered off to complete his assigned task.

Rosemary sighed and turned her attention back to the front counter. “Alright people, let’s get back to work. We’ve got ten minutes before we open.”

A controlled melee erupted around her; Hanna, the store’s assistant manager, flew to the register, and finished loading the till. Alex and Gabe, stocking and general floor help, ran around the main sales floor making sure everything was settled and ready for the start of business. Rosemary smiled at the chaos. 

 _Yeah_ , she thought, _this will definitely be a challenge._

 

____

 

 

“Excuse me, do you know if you’ve got the new Carter novel in?”

Rosemary turned, setting the box she’d been carrying onto the counter. She smiled at the woman standing before her. “Let me check.” A few quick taps on the tablet sitting by the registers later and Rosemary nodded. “Yes we do. It will be just here.” She motioned for the woman to follow her. 

Book obtained, the woman thanked Rosemary profusely, quickly paid for her purchase, and hurried from the store, leaving the jangle of the door chime in her wake. Rosemary turned her attention back to the box she’d sat on the counter. With any luck it should be the business cards and other various promotional materials they’d been due a week and a half ago.

Box cutter in hand, Rosemary had seen but not registered the figure that had entered the store and now stood near the counter.

“We seem to have a habit of meeting like this,” a familiar, warm voice chuckled. Startled, Rosemary dropped the box cutter and snapped her gaze up. Tom stood, a small but genuine smile lighting his features. “Hello.”

Rosemary blinked at him for several moments before remembering herself and returning his greeting. “Hi.” She let out a small, nervous laugh and quickly collected herself once more. “You, good sir, seem to have a habit of scaring years off my lifespan.”

Tom held his hands up in apology. “As always, that was never my intent.”

“So, Mr. Hiddleston, what brings you in today?” _Professional_ , she told herself, _I just need to keep myself professional and I can keep my head_. 

It was his turn to chuckle nervously, “You,” he answered with a smile, “Actually.” 

Rosemary was taken aback but fought to hide it. “Oh? And you knew I’d be here because?”

Tom laughed in earnest. “The store has always been your baby. There isn’t a chance in hell that you’d not be here for the newest launch.”

Rosemary nodded slowly and rested her hands on the counter. “That still doesn’t really clear anything up.” She watched Tom blink in confusion and stamped down the small part of her heart that fluttered stubbornly in her chest. 

She watched Tom rub the back of his neck with his left hand. “I saw the sign for the shop a few weeks back and was intrigued,” he started, eyes rising to hers. “I had been debating on whether it was a good idea for me to come after it opened when I ran into you at the gala.” His face flushed slightly. “After that I knew that I had to at least see…” He paused again and seeming to come to a decision, carried on. “I just…I missed you.”

Rosemary didn’t bother to hide the shock and confusion that flooded over her. “You missed me?” She parroted back, trying to understand. “It’s been three years, Tom. Why now?”

Tom nodded. “I know you asked me to stay away. And I understand why. I did my utmost best to respect that. But, yes, I have missed you. And seeing you again…it solidified that for me.”

A thousand questions ricocheted through her mind. With great effort she settle on, “What do you want, Tom?”

He smiled softly, “To be able to talk with you again. To call you when I’ve had a shit day or a great one or when I just want to hear your voice. There’s this saying, I guess you’d call it, that I heard recently and it struck me.” He paused, watching her face. “It pretty much goes that you have no idea how much you miss someone until something happens, good or ill, and the only person you want to tell is the one who’s not there. And it’s true. I want you in my life Rosemary, in whatever capacity you are comfortable with.” His eyes were clear and cautiously hopeful.

She stared at him in stunned disbelief. It was tempting, so very tempting. “Tom…”

He nodded and offered a small, knowing smile of understanding. “I’m not asking for an answer now. But can you get promise me to think about it?”

Rosemary hesitated, her eyes lowering to the counter. Could she do this? Should she? And if she didn’t would she honestly be okay with it? With a sigh, she nodded. “I can do that.” She paused, pulling a length of receipt tape from the cash register. In a quick, neat hand she wrote her number and handed it to Tom before she allowed herself to think better of it. His brows rose in confusion. “My number,” she clarified. If he could be bold, so could she.

He smiled, tucking the number safely in his pocket. “Is it okay if I call you this week? Maybe we could meet for coffee or lunch?”

Rosemary nodded. “I’d like that.”

 

___

 

 

It took everything Rosemary had to keep herself from jumping each time the phone rang. She felt utterly ridiculous the way her heart would leap into her throat at the sound only to settle in disappointment when the name on the screen wasn’t his. _Pathetic,_ she chided herself. _You are completely, ridiculously pathetic._  

Tom had promised to call but that had been nearly two weeks prior. A few days she could easily excuse. He was a busy man and time had a funny way of slipping away when you were busy. Maybe a week, given the right circumstances. But two weeks and nothing, not even a text? She was an idiot for even considering letting him back into her life. But that didn’t stop her from wishing he would call. That he would reach out. Something.

Disgusted with both herself and the situation, she tossed her phone onto the coffee table and forced herself to focus on something, anything else. The knock at her door forced her heart heavily into her throat.

“Sweet lord,” she murmured to herself, hand clutches tightly to her chest. With a laugh at her own skittishness, she pushed herself up from the couch and to the front door.

The first thing she registered was the large bottle of wine clutched tightly in a well-manicured hand. “Wha…” she started. It took all of thirty seconds for her brain to register the smiling face behind the bottle. “Jules?”

Jules rolled her eyes and pushed past Rosemary into the flat, shedding her coat as she went. “You’ve forgotten our standing date. I’m crushed.”

Realization dawned. “It’s Thursday!” She shouted, feeling like a fool. “God, where is my head?”

Jules snorted in laughter. “Obviously not attached. So…seeing as you completely forgot I was coming I doubt you’ve got food ready.”

Hissing a curse, Rosemary shook her head. “Chinese?” She offered helpfully. 

“I guess that’ll do.” Jules wandered into the kitchen behind Rosemary, grabbing two wine glasses. Armed with both a menu and a corkscrew, Rosemary ushered her friend back into the living room. 

“General Tso’s?” She asked, grabbing her phone from the table. 

Jules nodded her assent and busied herself opening the wine bottle. Order placed, Rosemary took the offered wine glass and sipped gratefully. 

“So…Movie?” 

Jules smirked and grabbed the remote from the coffee table, switching on the flat screen television and cueing up Netflix. “Romantic comedy?” 

Rosemary groaned and settled further into the couch. “Only if it’s a truly terrible one and we take the piss out of it.” 

A grin lit up Jules’ warm face. “One cheesy romantic comedy coming up.”

 

___

 

The movie they settled on was truly terrible but the wine and running commentary made it almost bearable. “I cannot believe someone got paid to write this drivel,” Rosemary moaned as she picked through her sweet and sour pork. “I mean seriously, we are in the wrong line of work.” 

Jules lifted her glass. “Here, here!” 

Both women dissolved into fits of giggles. “You spill wine on my couch, young lady, and you’ll be sorry,” Rosemary admonished, placing her own glass onto the coffee table. Another round of giggles erupted between them. 

It took Rosemary several moments to register the ringing she assumed was coming from the television was in fact coming her phone that she’d left lying on the side table. She clumsily grabbed for the phone, hoping whoever was on the other end had patience. She glanced at the phone, it was number she did not recognize. “Hello?”

“Rosie?” 

The voice was familiar, Rosemary knew that she knew it but still she could not place it. “Yes…?” 

“Rosie, its Tom…Are you drunk?” There was amusement in his tone. 

She giggled. “Maybe...” Rosemary squinted, trying to think. _Tom? Tom…Oh yes, Tom. I know Tom!_ “Tom!” she squealed into the phone, earning a glare from Jules. “Wait…” Her voice trailed off. There was something she was forgetting. “You said you’d call two weeks ago! You lied!” 

A sigh, “I know, I’m sorry.” 

“S’not good enough,” Rosemary protested. “You say you want to be part of my life and then disappear. That’s not acceptable.” From the corner of her eye she could see Jules’ eyebrow rise in increments. She held up her hand and waved it dismissively in her direction. She could not handle two simultaneous conversations at this point. 

“I know it’s not, Rosie. And if you can meet me for lunch tomorrow I can try to explain.” 

Rosemary creased her forehead in confusion. “Why can’t you explain now?” 

Tom sighed and she could hear shuffling on the other end of the line. “I could but something tells me that it would be lost on you at this point.” 

“Are you saying you think I can’t keep up?” Now she was indignant. 

“No, well yes. Rosie, you are slurring your words something fierce…” 

She shook her head, temporarily forgetting that he could not see her. “It’s not _that_ bad. Just tell me Tom. Cause if you don’t I’m just going to assume the worst…” and it wasn’t a completely idle threat. 

“Work, Rose. I got called back for an insane amount of reshoots and I could barely keep myself straight let alone other people.” 

She snorted a laugh of derision. “And you couldn’t text me something to that effect because?” 

“I’m a shit person and got caught up in my own damn head. I’m sorry. I truly am. I should have called or at least texted. It’s just the more time that passed the harder it was to try to justify.” He was nearly tripping over his words now. 

In her inebriated state she could just barely keep up. _Damn him_. “Tom, I think you’re right. I don’t think I’m up for this kind of conversation right now.” 

“Okay.” Tom paused and was silent for several moments. “Could we…I mean. Would you be able to meet me tomorrow for lunch or maybe dinner? To talk?” 

“Lunch,” Rosemary replied automatically. Dinner was decidedly _not_ a good idea. Far too intimate for whatever is was they currently were. 

“Is Italian okay? I know a nice little café that does a fantastic lunch.” 

She gave her assent and quickly ended the call. The phone chimed moments later with the text Tom had promised of the location and time. She could feel Jules’s eyes on her but did not dare look over. She instead held up her hand in exasperation. “I know. But we are far too drunk for this kind of conversation…” 

“Nope. Not gonna happen, Rose, darling. Drunk is exactly how this kind of conversation needs to happen. So talk,” Jules ordered pouring more wine into each glass. 

Rosemary took the proffered glass and drank deeply, knowing she’d regret all of this come morning. “Fine,” she uttered. “Do your worst.”


	3. THREE

**CHAPTER THREE**

  

Rosemary took a deep breath as she walked into the crowded bistro. A quick glance at her watch told her she was a good fifteen minutes early. _Perfect._ She offered the woman standing behind the counter a small smile and hurried to claim the small table near the back of the room she’d noticed upon entering. It offered a modicum of privacy that she felt they would desperately need. 

Her head had finally ceased its incessant pounding; _thank god for paracetamol and insanely large amounts of water_. But she still felt much the worse for wear. _Three hours’ sleep is not at all enough_.  

The night before had dragged on far longer than she’d hoped it would; not that that should have surprised her in any way. Jules, even completely in her cups, was a force to be reckoned with and she certainly hadn’t held back, hitting Rosemary with question after question. What was Tom doing calling her? How did he have her number? Was she actually serious about meeting up with him? Was this all a reaction to how things had ended with Adam? On and on she went until Rosemary thought she’d go mad. 

Even now, hours later, her head was still spinning. Giving Jules carte blanche had been a very, very bad idea. Her own uncertainty and unease of the growing situation with Tom was in no way helped by Jules’ leading and distinctly pointed questions. 

A surprisingly sunny faced waitress approached the table, a stack of menus in her arms. She took one off the top and held it out. “What can I get you?” 

Taking the proffered menu, Rosemary ordered a glass of still water and asked for a few moments to look over her options and to wait for a friend who would be joining her. The waitress nodded flitting off in the direction of the kitchens. She returned a few minutes later, placing the glass in front of Rosemary before heading off towards another recently occupied table. 

Rosemary rubbed her temples, fearing nerves would bring back her headache with a vengeance. She wondered for the hundredth time if coming here, if agreeing to meet Tom, had been a mistake. His excuses from the previous night had been flimsy at best, though admittedly her memory of them was fuzzy. _Copious amounts of wine and serious conversations are not the best of bedfellows_. Was letting him back into her life, in any way, actually worth it? She honestly didn’t know. _But yet here you are…_  

She was tempted to simply leave. So sorely tempted. He wasn’t there yet and chances were she could probably get away before he was. Surely it would be the smarter choice to walk away now rather than allowing herself to be slowly pulled back in…But still she hesitated. Was that honestly fair to him? Or to her? She wasn’t the same person she’d been three years ago and at this point she didn’t really know if he was either. Shouldn’t she give him at least the chance to explain? Just to say that she had?

 _Give him the benefit of the doubt_ , she reasoned with herself _. See what he has to say. You can always walk away later._   

Temporarily bolstered, Rosemary felt herself start to relax. There was no sense in working herself up over something that hadn’t happened yet. She drummed her fingers on the table as she sipped her water and watched as people filtered in and out of the bistro’s doors. 

The bistro did a fairly good lunch run, from what she could see. That was promising. Her eyes wandered over the menu, and had they seemed to have a fairly decent selection. _Very nice_.  If the food was any good it might be worth a repeat visit. She glanced reflexively at her watch, twelve on the dot. _Any minute now_.

But by fifteen after Rosemary’s patience was beginning to run thin. She was acutely aware each time the door opened and grew more and more disgruntled when, each time, it wasn’t Tom. The waitress had been by her table twice more, and the expression she wore grew a little more pitying with each pass. 

Rosemary grimaced. She felt utterly foolish for allowing herself to think that coming here could have ever been a good idea. She glanced at the glass and judged that she had approximately two more sips of water remaining. Fine then. If he hadn’t shown by the time she finished then he could go hang for all she was concerned. She was done. 

She’d pushed it for as long as she could, holding her glass and stubbornly hoping he’d walk through the door. But he didn’t and water finished, she grabbed her coat and left. She felt like an idiot. Why did she even consider coming here let alone waiting for so long _? Foolish, foolish woman_ , she chided herself. _You always do this. Why can’t you learn?_

“Rosie?”

She paused momentarily at the sound of Tom’s voice some several yards behind her before shaking her head and pressing onwards. 

“Rosie! Wait!” 

She could hear him scrambling after her but did not slow her pace. It was childish, she knew, but didn’t care. She’d waited enough. And if he didn’t have the decency to recognize that, then so be it. 

It took everything she had not to jump when his hand landed gently on her shoulder. She hadn’t realized he’d gotten so close and so quickly. _Damn that man and his freakishly long legs_. 

His touch was firm but not demanding; pleading her to turn and face him but not forcing the matter. “Rosie,” he whispered, “Please. I’m sorry. I completely lost track of time. I’m so sorry. I’m a complete ass and I know I don’t deserve it but please, _please_ don’t walk away.” 

She whirled around, her frustration burning clearly on her features. She saw no need to try to hide it. “Why Tom? Give me a reason why I should be wasting anymore of my time waiting for you?” 

Tom flinched at her words before whispering, “Because I don’t want to make the same mistake twice. I pushed you away once and I’ve regretted it every day since. I just want a chance to make it right.” 

Rosemary stared in stunned disbelief. She shook her head, to clear it, and pushed past Tom. _Arrogant son of a..._  

He hastily reached out his hand, halting her progress. “Wait, please.” Relief flooded his face when she did. “I know you are angry with me and you have every right to be. And I know that I don’t have a reason that won’t sound like I’m trying to make excuses.” Rosemary narrowed her eyes but remained where she stood, waiting for him to continue. “I got caught up in a meeting with Luke and completely lost track of time. I’m an idiot and I fucked up. I’m sorry. Please just give me a chance to fix this.” 

She sighed in resignation. “You keep saying you’re sorry, Tom, but you keep doing this. You make me promises and then you turn around and break them. You ask me to trust you and go and give me reasons why I shouldn’t.” She paused and shook her head. She hadn’t meant to unload on him, and certainly not in such a public setting. “You keep asking for chances, Tom, and you keep blowing them. And I don’t know if I’m willing to waste another on you. Maybe that’s not fair, but I don’t know if I can keep doing this with you.” 

Tom smiled grimly. “You are absolutely right. And I know it’s not fair to you either. I don’t have any excuse for my behavior. I keep hurting you and I don’t mean to. Please believe that I don’t mean it. All I’m asking is you for you please just give me a half an hour of your time. Let me try to fix this, please.” He held his hands up, desperation clear in his eyes. “Just have a quick meal with me. Or a coffee if you’d prefer. Just give me thirty minutes.” 

 _This is a bad idea,_ her mind screamed. _Just leave. Don’t let him pull you in again. It’s not worth it._ But she stood rooted, watching the pleading look in his eyes. 

With a resigned sigh she spoke. “Thirty minutes, Tom.” 

A small, hopeful smile spread across his face, “Thank you.” 

—

They sipped their respective coffees in silence. Tom had chosen a table in the corner of the small coffee shop, hiding them away from the bustle of busy Londoner’s feeding their caffeine addictions. Rosemary watched Tom as he watched her but neither spoke. She had expected him to bombard her with reasons and excuses for his actions as soon as they had settled. He’d been so keen to get her to stay and to listen. The fact that he wasn’t talking unnerved her. 

With decision she placed her nearly empty mug onto the lacquered table and folded her hands in her lap. “You said last night you wanted to explain so explain.” 

Tom placed his own mug down and straightened the hem of his sweater before speaking. “Yes.” He quickly picked up how mug, taking another sip of his coffee. “I told you last night that I got called in for unexpected reshoots right after we talked in the shop.” 

Rosemary nodded, fussing with her own sweater. His nervousness, it appeared, was catching. 

“I should have called you straight away,” he began again in earnest.  “Let you know what was happening. But I honestly didn’t think it would take more than a few days. But things happened and before I knew it near a week had passed. The mobile reception was poor at the best of times and when all was said and done and I got home and settled it had been well past what I’d promised you. And I knew I didn’t have a good excuse for not calling. I should have called then but I didn’t.  And the longer I waited the harder it was to justify.” He shrugged helplessly. “I had fucked things up with you enough. But I couldn’t just say nothing so…”

Rosemary took a deep breath and grabbed her coffee mug from the table, taking a large sip of her rapidly cooling latte. “If you had just called when you got home. Hell even a text. Something. I would have understood. I know I have my moments, but I’m not completely irrational…” 

“I know you’re not, Rosie. I never thought that you were,” he assured, tentatively reaching out a hand to her. She watched him cautiously but did not stop him. Tom took her hand and gently squeezed it in his. “And I should have done something, I know that. But at the time…I wasn’t thinking. I was angry with myself and I just didn’t think. It’s not an excuse but it’s all I have.”  

“And today?” 

She watched him critically. He’d already given her his reasons for their futile lunch meeting; she refused to call it a date no matter that the only person who would know she had was her, but in light of his candor she wondered if that story would change. And if it did what she would do. 

“I really was in a meeting with Luke,” he started. He locked his gaze on hers, blue eyes shining with the need for her to believe him. To listen. And she did so, grudgingly. “Things ran over and instead of calling I just panicked and tried to run here as fast as I could. I saw you leaving and I knew I’d bollocks it up again. I’m an idiot and I am truly sorry.” 

Rosemary didn’t utter a word for several minutes, her gaze darting from Tom to the table and back again. She could hear the pleading sincerity that he’d imbued his words with, but still she could not let herself fully believe them. She had believed them so often in the past and it had never ended well, for either of them. 

Frustration warred with longing. She loved him still, wanted desperately to believe that he meant it when he told her he wanted to be there, to make an effort with her. But yet again his actions spoke of a different and at the same time all too familiar tune. He hurt her in the past and seemed to fall back into that pattern so easily. She couldn’t let herself go through that again. Not now. 

“I hear what you are saying, Tom,” she began, willing herself to remain calm, “But it’s a little bit shit. You say you want to be a part of my life but then you go and pull the same shit you’ve always pulled. I don’t think I want to go through that again. It’s tiring.” She grabbed her purse from the floor beside her chair. “You say that you’re sorry but your actions say something altogether different and right now I cannot deal with that.” 

Without waiting for his response, she walked towards the café’s door and into the weak afternoon sunlight.

___

 “Another glass?” 

Jules held up the half empty wine bottle at Rosemary, shaking it lightly, her eyebrow raised in amused question. The living room had been overrun with various blankets, take-away bags and bottles of wine. The television was on, the movie playing all but forgotten. 

Rosemary handled her glass over without a moment’s hesitation. “Yes, please.” 

“You know,” Jules pointed out, filling Rosemary’s glass nearly to the brim and handing it back. “We are very much going to regret this come morning,”

She accepted it with a snort, “Probably. But fuck it.” 

“Fuck it,” Jules echoed with a smirk, draining her own glass.

Rosemary had shown up at Jules’ front door, two bottles of wine in hand, several hours before seeking a little levity to the mess her afternoon had been. After she’d left the coffee shop, Rosemary had practically ran back to the store, startling Max and subsequently Hanna, who hadn’t expected her back for another forty minutes at least. She hadn’t said much, simply thrown herself into the back office and tried to lose herself in the growing piles of paperwork. And it had worked, for a time, but soon enough her concentration began to falter. She’d snapped at Hanna when she’d popped her head into the office with a customer query. At that point Rosemary knew she needed to leave. She’d apologized profusely to Hanna and made a beeline for the nearest Tesco Metro and its wine selection. 

Jules had taken one look at Rosemary and pulled her inside with opened arms. Wine bottles were opened and food was ordered in quick succession. It had taken several glasses and half a container of shrimp lo mein for Rosemary to relax enough to let the day spill out in relatively coherent, if not stilted, bursts. 

Once started, she found it difficult to stop; her anger and confusion bolstered by the alcohol that flooded her system. Was she really such a doormat that Tom felt he could walk all over her? The idea bristled. He’d all but waltzed back into her life, charming and handsome as ever, and pleaded for a place in it. And the second she’d agreed he disappeared only to come back and plead again. Wash, rinse, repeat. It was pathetic. Why couldn’t she seem to learn? 

Jules had nodded in understanding. Rosemary knew that her friend harbored little affection for Tom, she’d made it perfectly clear. But never once did she say ‘I told you so’ and for that Rosemary was profoundly grateful. 

“Fuck him,” Jules stated in a matter of fact tone as she refilled both of their glasses.

Her glass raised in salute, Rosemary flashed a sardonic grin on her face. “That was always the problem.” She stifled a giggle as Jules snorted into her wine glass. “What? It’s true. If I hadn’t fucked him I wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.” 

“But you didn’t know that going in,” Jules indicated with a shake of her head. “Hell, I practically shoved you at him. And for that I am profoundly sorry.”

With a wave of her hand, Rosemary dismissed Jules’ remark. “I’m pretty sure I threw myself into that one all on my own. But whatever, we could argue it for days and get nowhere.” She took a gulp of wine before continuing, gesturing vaguely. “Besides, it’s not like you didn’t warn me that this would happen.” 

Jules placed her glass onto the coffee table, smiling softly at her friend.  She reached out and rubbed Rosemary’s shoulder in affection. “Has he tried calling again?” 

Rosemary shook her head, “No, thank god. I don’t think that would have ended well at all.” 

“Oh ho now?” Jules quirked an eyebrow and grabbed her glass from the table once more, taking several sips. “Do tell.” 

Bolstering herself with another gulp of wine, Rosemary let out a soft laugh and shook her head. “Because with where my head’s been since this afternoon, I don’t think I have the ability to fake any sort of patience.” 

 “Like he deserves anymore of your patience. Just call the bastard and tell him off once and for all.”  

Rosemary shook her head violently. “No. No. No. No very, _very_ bad idea. Anger plus alcohol plus phones equals massively stupid, terrible idea.” She’d seen enough films to know how that scenario would end. And with all that had happened between them…No, best to let that lie.

Jules didn’t look convinced, however, the thoughts that swirled in her green eyes were nothing short of troubling. Rosemary groaned, sensing this argument was far from over. Jules with an idea was like a dog with a particularly juicy bone. Nothing good could come of it.  

Noticing that their current bottle was long since finished, Jules stumbled, albeit gracefully, _the nerve_ , into the kitchen for another. Rosemary leaned back against the cushioned back of the couch with a contented and closed her eyes. She felt a pleasant buzz thrumming through her, not quite drunk yet but very much on her way. Her limbs felt heavy and a tranquility that wasn’t wholly natural filled her. 

“Oh no you don’t!” Jules lectured, shoving her arm none too gently against Rosemary’s shoulder to rouse her. “If I’m going down in a blaze of hangover glory tomorrow then you’re going down with me. Now up!” She thrust a now full wine glass into Rosemary’s hand and dropped herself back into the couch, giggling. 

Rosemary drank dutifully, noting that she was definitely getting far too old for such nights and finding that she did not care a whit at the moment. She would pay for it come morning, that she knew with a startling certainty, but for the moment she would let herself bathe in the false bliss brought on by the wine.

  

“You know,” Jules slurred over hour later, nearly spilling the remnants of her glass onto Rosemary’s top as she gestured wildly. “You should call him and tell him what an ass he is.” The two had polished off a further bottle and a half of wine while talking. Tom’s name had come up more and more frequency and with less and less charity. 

Rosemary blinked in confusion, trying to make sense of her friend’s words. Something about the idea seemed…off and in her, admittedly, impaired state she couldn’t quite remember why. Tom was an ass; that she firmly believed. Maybe telling him so would drive the point home to him. He kept pestering her for chances and then walked all over her. Maybe it was time she told him just where he could stick his need to fix whatever the fuck laid between them. “That,” she agreed, “Is a very good idea.” 

Her purse, however, was on the floor by the front door and that seemed so very far away. And she needed her phone to tell Tom he was an ass. With determination, Rosemary pushed herself to her feet, trying to desperately ignore the way the room seemed to tilt ever so slightly to the left. It took her several tries to dig her phone from the depths of her bag and several more to unlock it and find Tom’s number in her recent call log. 

Without a moment’s hesitation, she selected the number and hit ‘dial’.

 


	4. FOUR

**CHAPTER FOUR**

 

Rosemary cracked her eyes open, squinting in the bright sunlight that had flooded the room. It took several minutes for her to shake the disorientation of sleep off enough to recognize the familiar cluttered mess of Jules’ living room. She sat up and immediately regretted such hasty action. Her vision swam and it felt as though someone had taken a sledgehammer to her temples. Repeatedly. “Oh God,” she croaked and winced at the grating sound of her own voice. “Kill me now.” 

A pained groan sounded from somewhere near the couch. _Jules_. Rosemary took a perverse sort of pleasure knowing that she wasn’t the only one feeling much like death warmed over. God, they had sorely overdone it. 

“Only if you kill me first.” Jules’ voice was muffled by several layers of blanket that, in any other circumstance, would have been utterly hysterical. 

“Not quite how that works.” 

She fumbled feebly for her purse, seeking the blessed paracetamol she kept stored there. And water. God, she needed water. But water was in the kitchen. Going to the kitchen involved standing. Standing was something she knew she absolutely did _not_ want to do. She silently cheered as her fingers clutched around the small, plastic bottle and pulled it from her bag. _Step one, complete._ Now came the hard part. 

Gritting her teeth, Rosemary struggled to pull herself first onto her knees and then slowly, so so slowly, to her feet. The world only faded in and out of focus for a few moments and once it settled, she steeled herself for the harrowing journey towards the kitchen. _I am_ never _drinking again_. 

One cautious step and then another. Slowly, she stumbled into the kitchen, blatantly ignoring the switch for the overhead light. She very much doubted she could handle the bright flickering of fluorescent lighting at this point. The kitchen was dim, the lighting from the hall providing enough illumination for Rosemary to locate and grab a glass from the cabinet above the sink. She hesitated for a moment before grabbing another and shutting the cabinet door. If she was in desperate need of water than no doubt so was Jules. 

Two glasses full of cool tap water, Rosemary made her way back into the living room. She paused at the lump of blankets on the couch. “Water,” She intoned before setting the glass onto the wooden top of the coffee table. A pale arm poked its way out from beneath the covers and the voice underneath mumbled thanks. 

Rosemary laughed, wincing at the pain it caused. _Right. Paracetamol_. She needed paracetamol and now. She grabbed the pill bottle she’d placed on the table and deftly popped its lid, pouring two tablets into her hand. She washed them down with water and walked back towards Jules’ prone form. 

“Here,” she stated, dropping the bottle on top of the blankets. 

Jules pulled the covers off her head, grimacing at the brightness. “Please tell me you threw paracetamol at me. Because if you tossed a packet of gum on me I will kill you.” She attempted to glare at Rosemary but the effect was diminished by her overall look of pained confusion. 

“You’d have to catch me first, sunshine, and in such a state I think I can outrun you, hangover or no.” Rosemary smirked, taking pity on her pathetic friend, grabbed the bottle and thrust it into Jules’ outstretched hand. 

“Bless you.” 

“I’m not doing this out of the goodness of my heart,” Rosemary quipped, “You are a bloody bitch when you’re hungover and I can only deal with one of those at a time.” 

Jules only response was a raised middle finger. 

Rosemary cocked an eyebrow, laughed, and then grimaced as another stab of pain flooded her temples.  She slowly lowered herself back onto her makeshift bed on the floor and grabbed the glass she’d left on the edge of the table. She quickly downed the rest of her water and closed her eyes, praying that the medication would kick in soon. It would be nice to not feel like her head was going to explode at any moment. 

___

 

She awoke again several hours later feeling marginally more human. Pushing herself up she made a quick dash to the bathroom and then back into the kitchen for more water. She found Jules there, sitting on one of the bar stools, sipping a still steaming mug of coffee. 

“Is there any more of that?” Jules nodded at the French press on the counter and Rosemary wasted no time grabbing her own mug. “I know I should stick with water right now, but fuck me if I actually care at the moment.” 

Jules snorted into her mug. “Same.” 

Blessed caffeine flooded her system and she felt almost human again. She cocked her head at her friend. “What time is it?” 

“Time for you to invest in a watch.” 

Rosemary rolled her eyes, “Ha, very funny. Your wit astounds me.” 

Jules smirked, “I do my best.” She took another sip of coffee. “Half one I think.” 

Had she not placed her mug on the counter it would have fallen from her hands and clattered to the floor. “What?” she breathed. 

 _Fucking hell_. _Fucking, fucking, FUCKING hell!_  

She dashed back into the living room. She heard Jules splutter after her, but paid it little mind. Dropping to her knees, she grabbed her bag from the floor and tore through it searching desperately for her phone. She had to call the store, had to make sure everything was alright. Max and Hanna were there by themselves. Yes, she had trained them and she knew they knew what they were doing; but fucking hell she was supposed to be at the shop until things got firmly settled. 

But the damned thing wasn’t there. She cursed aloud, dumping the contents onto the floor and shifting through them. Maybe she’d missed it. 

No, it wasn’t there. She let out a groan of frustration. _Come on, Mathews, think!_ Had she used her phone after she’d left the shop that evening? She had a half hazy memory of holding her phone…By the couch! 

Rosemary jumped up and darted for the couch. She finally found it hidden underneath one of the couch cushions. How it had gotten there she didn’t know. But she’d found it.

She made quick work of unlocking the screen. She opened the dial screen then the ‘recent calls’ log; half fearing she’d missed their call. She let her eyes fall to the screen and nearly dropped her phone. All thought of the store and of Max and Hanna flew from her mind. 

 _Oh no! No. No. No.  Please, god, no._

She stared at the ‘recent calls’ log in abject horror. Tom’s name was there. Why the fuck was his name there? And at two in the morning? The log listed the call as lasting nearly fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes? _Oh dear god in heaven…_  

A cold dread settled in her stomach. What the fuck had she done? 

“Please god, Jules, tell me you didn’t let me call Tom last night…” Her voice shook with both fear and humiliation. _Of all the stupid fucking things…_  

Jules stood in the doorway of the kitchen with her arms crossed at her chest, momentary confusion clouded her features. “What?” 

Rosemary paced the living room, hands clenched at her sides, mind racing. “Tom. I called Tom last night…Or well this morning. Why did I do that?” She groaned and covered her face with her hands. 

“Because he’s a tit,” Jules retorted, matter of fact.  

Rosemary flushed in anger, “But that doesn’t mean I need to call him pissed out of my mind and tell him that now do I?” 

Jules shrugged her shoulders and chuckled. “To be fair, I didn’t think you’d actually do that. You know that anything I say after a bottle and a half of wine is not to be trusted…” 

“SOBER me knows that!” Rosemary hissed back, cutting Jules off. “But drunk me apparently can’t be fucking trusted.” 

Snippets of conversation flashed in her mind. Her own angry voice slinging accusations and Tom’s confused and hurt replies. She felt her chest tighten as she fought to breathe. If she’d said half the things she thought she had…She shut her eyes tightly, trying to quell the panic that was roiling inside her.

 _Not good. Very, very not good_. 

 “You okay?” 

“No.” She shook her head and slumped onto the couch, cradling her head in her hands. She heard Jules’s light footsteps and then felt the couch dip under her weight as Jules settled beside her. 

“It’ll be alright,” Jules reassured as she wrapped an arm around Rosemary’s shoulders, squeezing them gently. “So you told him off, it’s not like he didn’t deserve it.” 

Rosemary snapped her head up. “You don’t get it, Jules. What I said…Or think I said, I can’t remember for sure…Jules, I had _no_ right. None!” 

She took a deep, trying to calm herself. It was little use. Her brain refused to be silent; fragments of her words, hazy and disjointed echoed loudly. 

‘ _Arrogant, self-righteous bastard…’_

 _‘…No wonder you can’t get your shit together.’_

_‘What I ever saw in you…’_

Rosemary shook her head, trying to clear the words and the rising sense of shame they brought. She’d been callous and cruel and the worst part was she couldn’t remember half of it. She was certain she was about to be sick. _Head between your legs_ , the belated thought skittered across her mind. _Put your head between your legs and breathe._  

So she did. 

And slowly the panic began to recede and she could breathe without gasping. Belatedly, she felt Jules stand and heard her steps as she shuffled from the room. And then she was alone. 

She found herself staring at the phone she’d dropped onto the coffee table. It sat there, inert and seemingly harmless. Without conscious thought she bent and picked it up, turning the screen on with a few taps of her fingers. Her hands shook as she stared at his name in her contacts list. 

All of the anger and uncertainty of the day before had faded. She hadn’t forgotten what he had done and how it had hurt her but it didn’t seem nearly as important. All she wanted was to fix this. To fix the shaky truce they had at least been trying to build. To heal the hurt she caused. But actually reaching out and doing so terrified her beyond words. 

 _But if I don’t try…_  

Rosemary took a steadying breath and with shaking hands hit dial.   

The phone rang once, then twice. And then a click and the line disconnected. Her heart sunk like a stone in her chest as she realized what had happened with a sick and certain dread. He’d hung up on her. She couldn’t blame him; not in the slightest. Hell, she would have hung up on her too. Guilt gnawed in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t know what to do. She could feel the desperate panic of uncertainty roaring its ugly head. 

 _Just try again,_ her brain urged. _You need to try._  

With determination Rosemary redialed and held her breath. Three rings this time. Her mind whirled. She had no idea what she should say, or even could say, but knowing she had to say something regardless. Knowing that she had to try to apologize, to fix the mess she’d unleashed. There was a pause and then his voicemail kicked in. 

“Tom...it…it’s Rosie. I know you probably…” She halted and tried to gather her thoughts. “There is so much I need to…I’m sorry. Please, just call me back. Please.” She hung up quickly, and let out a shuddering breath. This was not the sort of conversation she could have with his voicemail. Doing so would lead to more confusion and the real, and terrifying, risk of further pain and misunderstanding. She needed to talk to him and he wouldn’t talk to her. She didn’t know what to do. 

Rosemary closed her eyes and tried to think. Panic and indecision whirled within her. What could she do? How could she get him to answer the phone and let her explain; let her apologize? She didn’t have the first idea but she couldn’t sit back and do _nothing_. 

Without a word, she shoved her scattered belongings back into her purse and grabbed her coat from where she had tossed it the night before. She needed to think and she couldn’t do that here. She called a farewell to Jules and shivered as she stepped into the weak sunlight of the late winter afternoon. 

The wind was brisk as she sped her way towards the Underground station a few blocks from Jules’ door. She pulled her coat tightly against her and joined the queue down the escalator and into the station. She boarded the next train, still lost in her thoughts and it wasn’t until she looked up and realized that her change point was two stops back that she fully came back to herself. 

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath. Nothing for it but to get off at the next station and switch trains there. But the next stop came and went and she remained on the train. She didn’t think about what she was doing until she saw a familiar station come into sight. 

Rosemary stood and exited the carriage with cautious determination. If he wouldn’t answer when she called then she would go to him. 

 

___

 

Rosemary pressed the buzzer on the black metal gate before shoving her hands back into the pockets of her coat. It was absolutely freezing and she resisted the urge to hop from foot to foot to keep warm. As she stood, her mind flashed back to the last time she’d stood here and the uncertainty and dread she’d felt then. _The more things change, the more they stay the same._  

She jumped as Tom’s garbled voice came over the speaker above the buzzer. “What?” 

“I know I’m probably the last person you want to see, but please I need to talk to you. Just give me ten minutes of your time. Please.” Her voice shook at the very real possibility that he wouldn’t open the door. She put on a brave face, if he didn't then it would be nothing less than she deserved. 

Several minutes of silence passed. Rosemary blinked back tears and prepared herself to walk away. The clink of the gate unlocking stunned her into immobility momentarily. She blinked for several seconds before pulling it open and walking towards the front door, heart pounding in her chest. 

Tom stood in the doorway, blue eyes cold and sharp as steel, his arms crossed defensively across his chest. This was such a far cry from the warm and caring man she’d known. He stepped aside without a word and she made her way into the warmth of the entry way. Her eyes darted around the hallway, taking in the familiar simplicity of his home. She was heartened to see that despite the years, nothing much had changed. Tom still hadn’t spoken and she fought to maintain a steady grip on her emotions. He’d let her in. That was something. 

Without a word, she made her way quickly into the living room. Again, she was heartened to see the familiar walls of books and simple but comfortable furniture. She felt rather than saw Tom follow behind her. His silent presence was unnerving and she fought the urge to turn tail and run. She refused to be a coward. 

They settled; her on the chair near the window and him on the sofa several feet away. Neither spoke. The silence in the room was near deafening and Rosemary wanted nothing more than for it to break. But Tom wasn’t talking and she feared that if left to his own devices, he wouldn’t say another word to her. 

Rosemary could feel his eyes boring into her and she fought to keep herself from flinching. She took a deep breath and braced her hands on her knees, trying desperately to think of where to start, what she could possibly say. _The truth_ , her mind screamed. _Tell him the truth. You owe him that at the very least._  

“Tom, I just…I don’t…” She stumbled over her thoughts and had to stop to gather herself before trying again. “God, Tom,” she whispered, dropping her head into her hands. She could feel his eyes on her and the words nearly stuck in her throat. Still she pushed onward, needing to apologize even though she knew there was little chance she could. “I am so so sorry for last night. I was completely out of my head. I shouldn’t have said that. I had no right to…” 

“Which part?” He asked cutting her off. His voice was level but she could detect the hint of underlying tension as he seemed to struggle in vain to contain himself. “The part where you called me ‘an arrogant, self-centered, selfish, prick of a bastard’ or when you said that I only date blonde, dimwitted pop stars and Hollywood starlets because they are the only ones who can put up with my ‘massive ego’ and ‘desperate need to be a media whore’? I’m paraphrasing here, mind you, but I think I got the gist of it.” 

Rosemary squeezed her eyes shut. That summer had always been a sore spot for Tom and she’d known it. He rarely, if ever, talked of it but when he had she had clearly seen and understood the toll it had taken on him. Throwing that in his face had been nothing short of cruel. 

She’d never felt so wretched in her entire life. He’d hurt her, yes. God had he hurt her. But he’d never done so intentionally. He’d been misguided and selfish, but he’d never set out with the intent to cause her pain. She had. She’d wanted him to hurt like she’d hurt so she used the one thing she knew without a doubt would leave him bleeding. 

“All if it.” The words were barely a whisper and with great effort she raised her head and met his gaze. “I know it’s too little too late but I am so, so sorry. I had no right to throw any of that at you. It’s not true and I had absolutely no right to say it. I wish I could take it back. I wish I’d never said it in the first place.” Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks and she wiped them away as quickly as she could. She didn’t have the right to be upset. Not at this. She wasn’t the injured party in this and she damn well knew it.

Tom sat in stony silence, his eyes burning with hurt and fury as he stared first at her and then at the table before him. She tried to ignore the shiver of unease his gaze sent up her spine. She wished he would speak, would say _something_ , anything.

“Well you did say it and you can’t take it back. That’s the funny thing about words, whether your intent is to help or harm, once they’re out there, you can’t take them back.” 

Rosemary drew a shuddering breath and fought to regain her composure. He was right, of course. She’d known it from the second she’d realized just what she had done. And she couldn’t change it. “I know that, I do. But that doesn’t mean I don’t wish it weren’t the case.” She paused, taking another deep breath and gathering herself once more. “I was drunk and angry and I wanted to hurt you. It’s not an excuse, I don’t have any excuse for lashing out at you. But I did and it was wrong. So very wrong of me. I know that that doesn’t fix or solve anything, but I am so dreadfully sorry.” 

It was Tom’s turn to breathe deeply. His eyes drifted closed for a moment and his face clenched then relaxed. “I know you’re sorry, Rosemary, but right now that is simply not enough.” He paused again, resting his hands on his knees. “I get that I hurt you and that I’ve been a selfish, cowardly prick but you took it too far and I can’t deal with that. Not now.” He scrubbed his jaw with his left hand. “I think I’d like you to go now.” 

She flinched as if struck but quickly gathered herself and nodded silently. Fair enough, she thought. That is bloody fair enough. Without another word she grabbed her purse from the floor beside her chair and walked quietly out of the house.


	5. FIVE

**CHAPTER FIVE**

 

Rosemary couldn’t remember the journey home, though she knew she had to have gotten there somehow. She could remember walking out of his house and the click of the gate behind her; it was a sound she didn’t think she would soon forget, loud and final in the cold winter air. The next thing she could clearly recall was pushing open the door to her flat then shutting it firmly behind her. But not matter how she tried she had no recollection of anything in between. 

Her mind was overcome with an agonizing dread at the realization that she had finally succeeded in pushing him away. She’d been angry with him, so ridiculously angry. It had surprised her just how deep that anger had gone. She had been so certain she had worked through it, had moved past it. And maybe she had, but then he had come back and her stupid, weak, hopeful heart had let him in without her express knowledge or consent. And he’d fallen right back into the patterns that had crushed her. She’d been so angry at him and so disappointed and furious in herself for trusting him again. So she’d lashed out and hurt them both in ways she didn’t know could ever truly be forgiven. 

Outraged with herself, she blinked away the tears that were threatening to spill over. This mess was ultimately her fault, what right did she have to cry over it? But knowing that did little to make a difference. The tears still came and rather than keep fighting them, she simply gave in. 

It was nearly full dark by the time she had calmed. The faint glow from the street lamps shining in through the living room window had been her only source of light in the flat. She fumbled feebly for the lamp beside the couch. She blinked rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the soft, bright light. She felt drained, both emotionally and physically. Her limbs felt heavy and her head pounded. She wanted to sleep and to forget. 

With great effort, she forced herself to her feet and into the kitchen, downing two bottles of water before pulling a take-away container from the fridge. She sniffed the contents and reassured nothing smelled off, mechanically ate. Full, she went through the motions of her bedtime routine; cleaning her teeth and scrubbing her face, before collapsing onto the bed and falling into fretful, restless dreams. 

If she’d harbored any illusion about the previous days’ events being anything more than a horrid nightmare they’d been dispelled by first light. The guilt, muted in sleep, roared to life with a vengeance as memory crept slowly back into awareness. Rosemary covered her face with her pillow and cried, not quite sure what else to do. She wanted to apologize, wanted to make it right. But that wasn’t an option, not anymore.

It was early yet, not quite six in the morning according to her bedside clock. She rubbed her swollen eyes and sighed, there seemed to be little hope of her falling back asleep. Resigned, she pulled herself out of bed and stumbled into the shower. Water turned as hot as she could stand, Rosemary climbed inside and groaned. Her shoulders were stiff and her head ached, she wanted nothing more than to disappear into herself. But that wasn’t an option, she couldn’t fix this and she couldn’t take it back. There was nothing she could do. The thought choked her. Shaking those thoughts away she reached down and grabbed her bottle of shampoo. _Stop it, just fucking stop_. Crying wasn’t going to fix anything. But that didn’t seem to stop the tears. 

Once she was clean, she dried and dressed quickly, making her way into the kitchen and fixing a cup of instant coffee. She grimaced as she drank. She hated instant but it was all she currently had and she desperately needed the caffeine. Cup in hand, she made her way into the living room and turned on the television, hoping for a distraction. 

The third time through the channels, she gave up, throwing the remote back onto the table. Her mind was jumbled, running through everything that had happened in the past 36 hours and everything she wished she had done differently. She wanted to scream; she couldn’t focus, couldn’t think. She knew if she stayed in her flat a moment longer she’d drive herself mad. _I have to get out of here_. 

Keys in hand, she locked the front door and headed towards the Underground station. The carriage was crowded with morning commuters, each locked in their own world. She paid them little mind, counting the number of stops until her own.

The shop was empty when she arrived; Hanna wasn’t due for another hour and a half and Max and Alex twenty minutes after. _Perfect_. She locked the door firmly behind her and headed towards the back office. If she could lose herself in the work, maybe just maybe, she could work through this.

 

___

  

“Remind me again why you dragged me out for lunch?" 

Rosemary sat straight backed in the wooden chair, arms crossed at her chest, staring pointedly at the woman sitting across from her. She ignored the bustle of the street outside that carried in through the thin glass wall beside them, focusing instead at Jules and wishing she was, somewhere, _anywhere_ , else. She was anxious to get back to the store, where a fair stack of receipts and forms was waiting for her. Anxious to be doing something that she could lose herself in. 

Jules laughed, shaking her head as she took a sip of her water. “Because Hanna called and all but begged me to drag you out of there.” 

Rosemary’s glare darkened. “Nice.” She fought to contain the steady rise of irritation and anger that coursed through her. 

“Seriously, she did.” The smile fell from Jules’ face. She leaned forward and rested her arms in the table. “She said you’ve been there every day, open to close, for the last week. You’ve been breathing down her neck, getting snarky with Max and Alex…Rose, honey, what’s going on?” 

“Nothing. I’m fine.” She dropped her gaze from Jules’ face and forced herself to focus on the menu before her.  The words made little sense with the way her mind ricocheted from thought to thought. But she pulled a valiant effort nonetheless.

“Yeah, I’m not buying that.” Jules reached out and placed her hand on top of Rosemary’s, squeezing it gently. “Talk to me, Rose. Please.” 

Rosemary snorted in derision, pushing her menu to the side and raising her eyes to shoot a quick glare at her friend. “Yeah, because that worked so well last time.” 

Jules blinked rapidly in confusion. “What?” 

The flood of anger that rushed through her was irrational, Rosemary knew that. But it didn’t make it any less real. She also knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it wasn’t her friend she was truly angry with. Yes, it had been Jules’ stupid, drunken idea but Rosemary had been the one to follow through. This was her fault, all of it. She pulled her hand from beneath Jules’ and ran it through her hair, forcing herself to take a deep breath. 

She shook her head at Jules. “Nothing…Just…never mind.” She took another deep breath. “It’s not anything that you need to worry about. I just…It’s been a rough week and I’m tired.”   

 _Please drop it._  

Jules studied Rosemary’s face skeptically, her head cocked slightly to one side. Rosemary fought a grimace, knowing that Jules wouldn’t drop the issue. Not when she scented blood. True, she may let it fall to the wayside for a time, but without fail, she would bring it up once more. And usually when the person in question least expected it. And Jules had known Rosemary far too long to simply take her at her word.

“You’re a shit liar, Rose, you know that right?” 

Or she would just keep poking it with a stick, waiting to see when her quarry yipped in pain. _Damn the woman_.  

“And you’re a nosy bitch, what of it?” She tried to keep her tone light, teasing, but the underlying tension and irritation were not so easily masked. God, her emotions were all over the place lately and half the time she didn’t know what to expect herself. “Sorry. I’m sorry, that was completely out of line.” She dropped her head into her hands, rubbing her eyes. “I’m piss poor company right now.” 

Jules snorted and took another sip of her water. “Like that’s ever stopped me before.” She placed the glass back on the table and reached her hand out, gently rubbing Rosemary’s shoulder. “But seriously, are you okay, Rose?” 

She shook her head slightly, a watery smile on her face, She wanted to lie and say that she was fine, just tired. But the lies were wearing on her and she didn’t think she could keep up the façade anymore. “Honestly, no…” She threw up her hand to stop Jules’ inevitable folly of questions. “I don’t want to talk about it. So please just let it be.” She swallowed thickly. “I will be okay.” She ignored the incredulous look Jules shot at her. “I just need time to work through it.” 

Rosemary watched as Jules’ green eyes narrowed. “Are you sure?” 

She knew there was more Jules was dying to ask but was grateful at her friend’s attempt at restraint. “As sure as I can be.” 

The appearance of the waiter put paid to any further remarks or questions. Once the food had been ordered, Rosemary did her utmost best to ensure that the conversation remained indefinitely on hold. It wasn’t that she had no desire to talk about what had happened. It was just she had little desire to discuss it with _her_. 

She loved Jules dearly. She’d been like a sister to her, someone she knew would listen and not judge her too harshly, but Jules could be less than objective at times; especially when Tom was involved. She’d gotten better over the years, but it was still a sore spot and Rosemary couldn’t deal with it. Not with all that had happened. _And_ , a less charitable part of her chimed in, _talking to her about him last time played a hand in getting you firmly mired in this mess._  

When the food arrived both women ate in silence; aside comments about their respective meals and the weather notwithstanding. Jules had opened her mouth several times during the meal but seemed to decide better of it and kept whatever comment or question she’d had to herself. For that, Rosemary was eternally grateful. 

As they gathered their coats to head back into the winter chill, Jules at last seemed to come to a decision. She straightened her shoulders and turned to face Rosemary. “This is about Tom, isn’t it?” 

Rosemary froze and her eyes drifted closed for a moment. 

She’d been stupid to think that Jules had truly dropped the subject. Stupid and ridiculously, idiotically hopeful. When would she ever learn? Pain and misplaced anger warred within her. “Yes,” she answered curtly, her eyes locking on Jules. “But it looks like you got what you wanted. And I guess, in a way, I did too.”

A look of momentary confusion spread across Jules’ face. 

Rosemary ignored her and carried on. “At this point I doubt he’ll ever speak to me again. I’ve finally run him off.” 

Without waiting for Jules’ reply, she walked out of the restaurant. A shiver ran down her spine at the sudden burst of cold that enveloped her. She tightened her coat around her and carried on down the crowded pavements. She wasn’t sure where she was going, only that she didn’t think she could handle heading back to the shop. She wasn’t sure she could face Hanna or Max or honestly anyone else, not in her current frame of mind. Not with the way she’d been over the last week. 

Rosemary didn’t know what to do anymore. She’d thrown herself into work and it wasn’t helping. Nothing seemed to be helping. She couldn’t shut her mind off nor could she truly accept the consequences of her choices. Accept that Tom was gone, likely for good this time. And that nothing she could do or say would change that. She’d been acting like a bitch. She’d been short tempered and unpleasant; she knew it, everyone knew it. She’d been taking her anger out on all and sundry and that wasn’t right nor was it fair. But she didn’t know how to stop it. She needed to do _something_ , needed to fix this before she dragged anyone else down. It was her problem, her fault, she needed to figure out a way to deal with that. To live with it. She just wasn’t sure how.

 

—

  

The train slowly rolled to a stop, Rosemary quickly gathered her carry-on bag and followed the line of passengers out onto the open aired platform. The sky overhead was darkened with the promise of snow. _Just bloody perfect_.   

She pulled her coat tightly around her and hurried inside. The lobby of the station was relatively empty, not completely surprising given the fact that it was midweek. She found a taxi easy enough, rattling off the address to the driver and settling into the backseat. 

She watched without really seeing as the scenery sped past. If the driver spoke to her, Rosemary didn’t hear him. Instead she allowed her mind to drift back. She liked the city, Hereford was a great deal slower paced than London. She had fond memories of wandering the cathedral grounds with her friends, drinking and laughing until the early hours of the mornings. She’d spent almost every Christmas in recent memory here, had been here almost three months prior. And here she was again. 

Coming back felt a bit like backsliding, but Rosemary couldn’t seem to hold herself together anymore. Her lunch with Jules had been the last straw. She was angry, far angrier than she knew she should be. But she couldn’t seem to let it go. She fucked up, been terribly cruel, and she couldn’t take it back. Throwing that anger at everyone around her wasn’t helping. So she’d done the only thing she could think of, she’d gone home. Even if they couldn’t help her at least she wouldn’t be judged. 

The taxi slowed to a stop in front of the familiar two story house. She laughed softly when she noted the Christmas lights still around the windows. Her father hadn’t bothered to take them down yet. Some things never changed. Rosemary paid her fare and walked slowly up the stone path. 

She knocked lightly on the front door. The red paint that covered it was still faded and chipped in places. Her father always swore blind that he would repaint it but never seemed to find the time. Doubt crept into her mind. She probably should have called ahead, she realized, given some warning. But it was a touch too late for that. After several moments the door opened. She offered the woman standing in the doorway with a threadbare smile. “Hey mum.” 

Josephine Mathews stared at her daughter, “Rosie?” She pulled her daughter tightly into her arms. “Oh my dear girl, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” 

Tears streamed down her face as she let herself be held. “Oh mum.” She broke down. Wordlessly, Josephine pulled her daughter into the house, closing the door behind them. They settled on the couch, Rosemary hiccupping through her tears, trying to calm herself. She was scaring herself and most likely her mother. She needed to get a grip. 

“Rosie, darling, talk to me. What’s happened?”

Tears rolling down his cheeks, Rosemary raised her head, her hazel eyes locking with her mother’s light brown. “I messed up, mum. I messed up badly.” 

In starts and stops, she stumbled through the story, telling her mother everything. She told her about Tom, not who he was, but what he’d done. How she’d loved him, how he claimed to love her only after he’d lied and broken her heart. How she’d fallen into her relationship with Bryan despite knowing that it wouldn’t last. He was a wonderful guy but he was everything that Tom hadn’t been and she’d clung to that. How Tom had come back and how she’d let him in again, not really meaning to. Not really realizing what she had done. How he’d let her down again and how angry she’d been. She told her about the phone call, the terrible things she’d said. How she’d hurt him purposely.

“I hurt him, mum,” she whispered, hands clenched tightly against her knees. “I used things he’d told me, things he trusted me with, and I threw them in his face. I fucked up and I can’t fix it.” She paused, viciously wiping her hands across her eyes. “And I’m just so angry. I’m so angry, mum. What do I do? What am I supposed to do?” 

“Oh sweetheart.” Josephine rubbed Rosemary’s back, making softy shushing noises. “It’s okay. It will be okay. Just let it out, darling.” She held her until she could feel Rosemary’s breathing returning to normal with only the occasional shudder. “Better?” 

Rosemary pulled back and nodded slightly. It wasn’t a complete lie but it certainly wasn’t the truth. She ducked her head her mother’s knowing look. “No.” 

Josephine smiled softly and squeezed Rosemary’s hand, rubbing her knuckles in reassurance. “I know, dear one. I know. You’re probably not going to be for a while and that is okay.” She squeezed her hand again. “I wish I could tell you that it will all work out that he will forgive you and you can set it right.” She reached up to brush a tear from Rosemary’s cheek with a small, warm smile. “But I can’t. Sometimes we do things that we cannot fix. And if that is the case we have to try to accept our failings and move on.” 

Rosemary nodded, wiping the residual tears from her eyes. “I know. I just don’t know how.” She allowed herself to be pulled back into her mother’s embrace.

“You will,” she whispered, kissing Rosemary’s hair. “You will.”

___

 

The journey home was blessedly uneventful, Rosemary had slept off and on in the three hours between Hereford and London. She jerked awake as the train pulled into London Paddington, momentarily disoriented. Bag in hand, she slowly made her way from the train towards the escalators leading to the underground.

Settled on the train home, Rosemary pulled her phone out of her purse, muttering a curse. She’d turned it off sometime the night before and hadn’t bothered to switch it back on. _Dammit_. She pressed the power button and watched as the familiar start up animation played. Three messages. _Fuck_. 

Two were from the store, well both stores. Hanna letting her know that the latest shipment hadn’t arrived behind and Jules letting her know that she’d told Hanna that the shipment had arrived at the original store. Rosemary rubbed the bridge of her nose in frustration. _Perfect_. The third had been from a number that she hadn’t recognized. She tried to shove done the part of her that both feared and prayed that it was Tom. But it was all for not. A bloody sales call. She groaned in frustration and threw her phone back into her bag. 

_Just get a grip, Rose. He isn’t going to call. It’s done. Just let it go._


	6. SIX

**CHAPTER SIX**

  

It had taken Rosemary nearly another full week to start to feel more or less herself again. The guilt was still there, waiting for moments of calm to rear its ugly head, but a sense of resignation and weary acceptance had taken root in her. She had taken things too far and he had walked away. It had been almost two weeks since that she’d seen him last and no word, for good or ill. She hadn’t been surprised; it’s what she would have done. Cut him out before more damage could take root and not look back. But knowing that didn’t make any of its aftermath any easier to stand. 

There were times she could have sworn she’d caught glimpses of him on the street as she traveled between the shop and her flat. But when she would stop and look back because _maybe this time, just maybe_ , there was no trace of him. And it was hard, during those times, to stop the crushing sense of loss and defeat that would overwhelm her. She knew it was her mind playing tricks on her, her subconscious seeking out some part of him. Wishful thinking at its best.

She had pulled out her phone so many times, opened to his name in her contact list, finger hovering over the dial button. But she hadn’t brought herself to actually do so. He’d made it perfectly clear that he hadn’t wanted to speak with her. Forcing the issue would likely only make matters worse. She’d wanted to though; she wanted to desperately. It was a feeling she wasn’t sure would fade over time but maybe it would be easier to bear. _Please let it be easier._  

But she had forced herself to go about her life. The newest _Stories_ was slowly but surely starting to stand on its own. Hanna had taken to managing more of its day to day operations but Rosemary remained on hand to help with the larger matters. It was a strange thing, letting another hold the reins to what had always been her baby. But Rosemary knew that it was all part of the process. In time she would transition herself to the original store and hopefully be able to fit herself back into that routine. But for now she flitted in between the two and told herself she was content. She had to be, there wasn’t another option she cared to entertain. 

Things unfortunately were still cool between herself and Jules. They had spoken briefly regarding _Stories_ and business matters but neither had overtly mentioned their last tense meeting. Rosemary knew that Jules had wanted to breach the subject, whether to apologize or continue the argument further, she wasn’t sure, and had done everything in her power to shut her down. She knew that she wasn’t being precisely fair to Jules, that the fault had been ultimately hers and hers alone, but it did little to temper the resentment she felt. Time, she hoped, would help cool her ire. Time and a bit of distance. 

Rosemary took a deep breath and wrapped her coat tightly against the brisk chill of the late March afternoon. She’d been on several errands, both for the store and for herself. She juggled both of the now incredibly heavy tote bags to her left shoulder and fumbled in her pocket for her set of store keys. It amazed her how easily she tended to lose things in those pockets, especially since they weren’t overly large. _One of the many mysteries of the universe_ , she thought with a snort of amusement. Several minutes and curses later she managed to locate them and made quick work of the door’s lock, shoving it open with her hip. 

The store had closed early that particular Saturday afternoon to get a jump start on inventory reconciliation. Something that in past had taken a good two days, more without suitable help. It was all hands on deck and Rosemary, in turn, had drawn the short straw and been sent on readies duty. She’d hit the nearest corner shop and unloaded nearly all of their pre-made sandwiches and very nearly decimated their crisp and soft drink stock as well. She had also managed to squeeze in a run to the café across the street and gotten herself a triple espresso, not thinking overly much about the wisdom of ingesting quite so much caffeine. She’d needed it and desperately, especially if she wanted to make it through the coming inventory alive and relatively sane. 

“Alright boys and girls,” she called as she pushed the door closed behind her with her foot. “Gather round, for I come bearing massive quantities of food.” 

Several grumbles echoed from the stock room in back followed by heavy footfalls. Max was the first to appear, taking the bags from Rosemary’s outstretched hand and placing them with a grunt of effort onto the countertop. Alex, Gabe, and Hanna followed closely behind. Soon the shop front was filled with contented mumbling and the rustling of cling film and crisp packets. Placated with food, the group soon settled into the chaotic routine of inventory. Rosemary found herself laughing and almost happy as she listened to Alex and Max bicker back and forth over who would be tackling the shelved items verses the boxes in back. 

“I don’t give a toss which of you does what, but if I here anymore of your bitching I won’t be able to be held accountable for my actions,” Hanna yelled, amusement tinged with annoyance coloring her tone. 

Which cued another argument between the two about what exactly counted as bitching and just who’s fault it was. Rosemary and Hanna merely locked eyes and laughed as the boys continued to snipe at one another. There was little else they could do and unless, or until, it came to physical blows it was more or less harmless.   

The process was a slow and tedious one. It had taken all Rosemary had to not jump for joy when they’d finally called it quits for the evening. It was ridiculous, she was well aware, but if she stared at anymore figures or lists she was certain she’d lose what little she had left if her mind. The faces of the others told Rosemary she wasn’t alone which was comforting. 

Sunday was much the same. Rosemary and Hanna arrived shortly before seven, with the remaining team trickling in an hour or so later. They worked steadily through the morning, breaking occasionally for coffee runs and Max’s frequent cigarette breaks, in which he swore he was simply ‘testing the air quality’. “And I’m the bloody Queen,” Hanna had griped at him on his seventh break of the morning. 

Max had good natured rolled his eyes, bowed, and intoned, “Your Majesty,” before heading out into the cold afternoon air.  

Gabe had drawn the short straw that afternoon and, with a sigh of thinly veiled annoyance, had made the run to the local pizza joint to pick up the pizzas Hanna had ordered. They ate and laughed, putting off their return to work as long as they could. They finished, finally, sometime in the early evening and parted ways with many a joyous cheer, mainly from Max, Alex, and Gabe.

Rosemary had sent Hanna off as well, electing to remain behind to finish the last of the paperwork and the lock up. She used the now unaccustomed silence to breath and center herself. Her mind bent to the task, she had been able to knock out the remaining work in less than two hours. True, it would have been faster with Hanna’s aid, but Rosemary had needed the distraction.

Going home to her empty flat had been a daunting process. She’d always valued having her own space, had never felt lonely on her own. Until recently. And with her relationship with Jules so strained, she’d been alone more often then not. So she’d volunteered to take on more at the shop, often times coming home too exhausted to think. It wasn’t something she could maintain in the long run, she was well aware of that, nor did it help solve anything. But for now it helped. 

It was a pattern she allowed herself to continue in the week that passed. And now with Jules out of commission, she was beginning to feel the strain. Especially on this evening in particular. The day had been hectic; the store had gotten quite busy during the middle of the afternoon, pulling her from her office to help with the overflow and once that had died down she’d been left to sort through the growing queue of online orders. 

Normally she and Jules split handling the orders as they arrived, but Jules had a family emergency; her sister had been rushed to the hospital in what was feared to be, and later confirmed as, preterm labor, leaving Rosemary to juggle both locations. It was daunting and had been mentally draining but by the time she had left for the evening, the majority of the orders had been managed, leaving the physical gathering and packing of said items for Gabe and Alex on her end and Samuel on Jules’. 

Once she’d arrived home, Rosemary had quickly changed into a pair of worn, but mercifully comfortable track bottoms and an oversized t-shirt. She had exactly zero plans of venturing out of her flat anytime in the near future and comfort was now her number one priority. Anyone who came calling would simply have to accept that. Not that she expected any visitors save whomever delivered her meal of choice for the evening.

She sighed and wandered lazily into the kitchen. At this point all she could think of was curling up on the couch with a blanket and unhealthy amounts of Chinese take-away. She grabbed a glass of water and a menu from the newest Chinese take-away that had sprung up in her neighborhood. It had been left by her door earlier in the week and she was anxious to give them a try. 

Food ordered, Rosemary grabbed the remote from the coffee table and set about flicking through the channels hoping to find something that would catch her attention. Three trips through though and she was beginning to lose hope. With a grunt she pushed herself off of the couch and wandered over to the shelf of DVD and Blu-ray discs in the corner, perusing her options. It took several minutes but she soon selected a film; a thriller that would easily occupy her mind, opened its case and placed the disc into the opened tray of the player. She settled herself back onto the couch and watched the disc previews with only the barest hint of attention. She clicked through the start-up menu and started the film, dropping the remote beside her on the couch. 

Rosemary nearly jumped out of her skin when a knock sounded at her door. She laughed and shook her head at her own skittishness. _Mathews, you seriously need to relax._ She quickly pushed herself off the couch and grabbed her purse from its home on the entryway table. 

She pulled open the door, wallet in hand. “That was quick, I’m impress…” 

Her voice trailed off as her brain fully comprehended just who was standing in her doorway. Tom stood silhouetted by the warm, but dim lighting of the hallway, his expression unreadable. Rosemary gaped at him, vaguely aware of just how unbecoming she must have looked, but at that moment she’d been too stunned to care.  

“May I come in?” His voice was soft and even. 

Rosemary nodded mutely, standing aside to allow him to pass. He entered without another word. Her mind was screaming with questions. Why was he here? What did he want? Why had he come _now_? She didn’t trust her voice to speak. 

Instead, she watched as he made his way into her tiny living room, stopping in front of the couch but not settling onto it. He turned to face her and she could have sworn she saw a flicker of _something_ in his eyes. She couldn’t place it or rather was not sure she had seen it correctly. It wasn’t the cold, fury laced pain she had seen that last afternoon but a cautious determination. But of what? And to what end?

“Tom,” she breathed, her voice quiet and almost tremulous. “I…I don’t understand…What are you…Why are you here?”

He offered her a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I told you that I needed time.”

Rosemary nodded. She remembered his last words all too clearly. They had replayed over and over on her mind since he’d uttered them. “I remember.” But this didn’t make any sense. He’d asked her to go, told her to leave. Why was he here now?

She watched as Tom paced slowly around the small room. He rubbed his hand through his already tousled hair before shoving both firmly into the pockets of his jeans. “I…” He paused, seemingly to try and gather his thoughts. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Rosemary stared at him in confusion. “What?”

Tom let out a soft, unsure laugh. “I must have picked up the phone a hundred times over the last few weeks. I just…I didn’t know what to say. I still don’t. I spent the whole trip here trying to think of what I could say. What I should say. How I could convince you to talk to me.” He paused, his eyes raising to meet hers, confusion and disbelief swirling in their depths. “I didn’t expect you to answer the door. Let alone let me in. But you did, and I don’t understand why.”

Again she gaped at him. Her mind swirling with confusion. Nothing he was saying was making any sense. She was the one who’d lashed out, hurt him. “I…I don’t understand. Tom, you’re not making any sense. _I_ fucked up. _I_ said those horrid things to you. Why the hell would you think that you would need to convince _me_ to talk to _you_?”

It was Tom’s turn to stare in bewilderment. “I deserved it. And truthfully so much more. You…Rosie, I was horrid to you. I was…Fuck, I still am a selfish cad. I keep fucking up! I keep hurting you! You have every bloody right to be furious with me! And instead of facing up to that I ran.” 

He paused, taking a deep breath and dropping himself onto the couch. He ran a shaky hand through his hair. “I thought I was too late. That I’d waited too long again, that I’d hurt you too badly for you to ever forgive me. But you opened the door. Why did you open the door?” His voice had gone quite soft, as if he were not really speaking to her anymore. Rosemary had barely heard his last question and continued to stare at him in stunned disbelief. She couldn’t make any sense of any of it. 

Rosemary took a deep breath and tried to marshal her thoughts into some semblance of coherency, before slowly lowering herself onto the opposite end of the couch. “I should have called you.” She raised her eyes to his, noting how they mirrored her own confusion. “I wanted to call you. Wanted to apologize.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “I was just so angry at you. So fucking angry. And I wanted to hurt you. Hurt you like you’d hurt me. And that was wrong, I knew it and I still did it and I can’t take it back. You aren’t the one who fucked up this time, Tom. I did that. And I am truly, truly sorry.” 

Tears blurred her vision and she hastily wiped them away with the back of her hand. The guilt and resentment burning steadily inside her. She felt Tom’s large hand envelope her own, squeezing it gently. The warmth of it was both comfort and torture. Her eyes shot up to his once more.

“Rosie,” he breathed, “Please don’t…”

She shook her head vehemently. “No, Tom. This right here was my own damn fault. Don’t you dare try to take it on yourself.” 

Tom laughed despite himself. It was a short, mirthless sound. It sounded wrong coming from his lips. “We could go back and forth on this for ages, darling, and not get anywhere.” He offered her a tentative smile. “We both behaved appalling and we both fell wretched about it, am I right?” His eyes locked on hers, silently pleading for understanding. 

Rosemary nodded, a watery smile spreading across her face. “More or less.”

“And apologizing further doesn’t change or fix that?”  

She nodded again. 

This time the smile he gave her shone lightly in his eyes. Tentatively hopeful and blessedly warm. “You are sorry and so am I. We’ve both done wrong and we can’t change that. It’s done now. So let’s just stop. Call it a truce.”

Rosemary laughed in earnest now. Could it honestly be that easy? If she was being completely honest with herself, she could admit she was doubtful but she still couldn’t deny that the idea was enticing. _Maybe it could be that easy, in time_. 

She shoved him playfully on the arm, not letting herself think too closely at how she’d been so sure such casualness between them was lost for good. “Look at you, Mr. Double First from Cambridge, when did you get so smart?”

Tom smiled and rubbed his hand over the nape of his neck. “Not for lack of trying.” He raised his head, eyes finding hers once more. “I’ve had a lot of time to do a bit of soul searching, if you will. And, though it’s still mostly a work in progress, I’ve learned that talking helps. And talking to someone, especially someone who is objective, makes a difference.” 

Rosemary looked at him blankly, trying to process just what he was trying to tell her. And more importantly, why he was telling her. “Talking to someone?” She began, repeating his words, trying to ascertain their meaning. “Like a therapist?” 

He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand once more, his eyes locked on the table before him. He looked as vulnerable as she’d ever seen him and it tugged at her heart.

Her brows furrowed an unsettling realization nagging at the back of her mind. “Because of what happened? With us?” The words felt wrong, selfish and self-centered and not at all what she’d meant. But she couldn’t seem to find ones that would convey what she desperately wanted to understand.   

Tom shook his head, “No. Because of me. Because I didn’t much care for the person I was becoming.” He rested his hands on his knees, eyes locked on the floor. “It got to be too much; the fame, the attention, the scrutiny from the press and fans alike. I’d dealt with it all before, and I thought I had a fairly good handle on it. I was able to tune it out and just go about my life. And then that summer…” he took a deep breath and shrugged. “It got so much worse and it didn’t seem to go away. It didn’t matter what I did, between the cameras and the fans…It was something I was struggling with. Something I couldn’t seem to wrap my head around, couldn’t control. So I threw myself into my work because then at least I could control that. I worked and I worked and I tried to ignore it. And then I met you and I felt like I could breathe. It was all still there but I could forget for a while. And I did and it was wonderful. But it didn’t go away and instead of dealing with it, I ran. And then I threw myself back into work and the vicious cycle started all over again. But this time I wasn’t handling any of it and I couldn’t fake it. Not anymore. I was pushing people away, putting up walls, lashing out. I wasn’t me anymore and that scared the shit out of me. So I sought out help.” 

“And did it?” She whispered and, realizing her question wasn’t completely clear, added “Help, I mean.” 

Tom raised his eyes and caught Rosemary’s once again, nodding. “It’s helping. It’s a long way yet but yes, I think it’s helping.” 

“Good.” She took his hand in hers and squeezed. “I’m glad.” 

The knock that sounded at the door startled them both. Rosemary quickly pulled her hands away, confusion coloring her features. _What on earth…_  

And then it hit her, “My food!” She jumped from the couch, grabbing her wallet from the table in the hall where she’d dropped it at Tom’s sudden apparition. She ignored Tom’s chuckle at her unexpected outburst, knowing he’d seen her so far worse. 

Rosemary smiled politely at the girl standing at the door, as she took the bag and paid her. Closing the door with her hip, she turned back around and held the bag up towards Tom. “I’d nearly forgotten about this.” She smiled softly at him, “I’ve got enough to feed a small army. You’re welcome to have some…If you want…” she trailed off, feeling like a prize idiot. Or a lovesick fool. _No_ , she cursed at herself. _Do_ not _go there._

She watched the indecision play across his face and tried desperately to stamp down her own rising disappointment. Things had been emotionally jumbled and tense between them. Of course he’d want to go. But god, how she wanted him to stay. Just for a bit longer. 

“Are you sure?” His voice was soft, tentative. “I’ve already barged into your evening enough as is. I don’t want to put you out anymore than I already have.” She could see the indecision warring with what she thought was wary hope in his eyes. 

“No, please,” she started, placing the bag into the coffee table and standing in front of him, trying desperately to keep her voice calm. “Stay. I’d like you to stay.”


	7. SEVEN

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

  

An exasperated sigh fell from Rosemary’s lips. It was barely noon and already she wanted to ram her head into a wall. _This paperwork will be the bloody death of me._ She rolled her neck, grimacing at the crack that action released. She was far, far too tense. _Another hour_ , she reasoned. _If I can make it another hour_ _and then I can walk away for a bit._ She nearly jumped out of her skin as her phone buzzed suddenly to life on the edge of her desk. Absently she reached for it and couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face as the familiar name flashed on the screen. With a shake of her head, she swiped to answer the call. “Tom.” 

His warm laughter filled her ear and pulled another smile to her face. “Rosie, darling, how are you?” 

“Lay off the charm, Hiddleston,” she joked, rubbing the back of her neck absently with her free hand. “Now to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?” 

Another warm laugh. _God did he have any idea the chaos he could unleash with that laugh?_ She shook her head trying to clear that errant thought away. 

“Gods, you do wonders for my ego.” 

Rosemary smirked, “I do my best.” 

It had been two weeks since she and Tom had shared Chinese take-away in her small flat. The conversation that first night had been slightly stilted after the emotional levity of the hour before, but it was still infinitely better than she could have hoped. And, in all honesty, than she had expected. It was still nowhere near the ease they had shared in years past, both too much and yet too little time had passed for that to occur once more. But it had been a start and for that she’d been grateful. 

Tom hadn’t lingered long after they’d finished their meal, thanking her profusely for both the food and her time. He’d hesitated briefly at the door as she’d walked him out before leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek. She’d stood frozen, butterflies rioting in her chest as he wish her a pleasant evening and closed the door behind him. 

And over those two weeks they had spoken often, mostly by phone though they had occasionally met at various cafés for coffee. Things were simple and unhurried between them. No pressures just the slow process of getting to know each other once more. And for that she’d been incredibly grateful. 

She had been adamant with herself that this time she wouldn’t throw herself blindly into him, into _them_. They had rushed headlong into their doomed affair without a second thought, and in doing so, had both paid the price. She could not, _would not_ , do that again. 

“…So what do you think?” 

Rosemary shook her head violently, forcing herself back into the present, and realized she’d missed nearly everything he’d said. “I’m sorry, Tom, what?” 

Tom’s chuckle echoed in her ear, “I was asking if you were possibly free for lunch today.” 

She paused, weighing her answer. They had made great leaps in such a short time and she very much wanted to see him. They had met several times for coffee but hadn’t shared a meal since that first night. 

The knock on the doorframe was so soft that at first Rosemary hadn’t been sure she’d heard it. But then it sounded again. Her head jerked up. Jules stood silently in the doorway, a rueful smile spread across her features. She started slightly at the sight before silently waving Jules into the office. 

“Can I take a raincheck on that lunch?” 

She heard a shuffling from Tom’s end. “Sure,” She wondered briefly if the disappointment she heard in his voice was of her own invention or actually there, but quickly brushed the thought off.  “Just let me know when?” 

“I will. Talk later?” She let her own hope color her words, refusing to think further into why that troubled her. 

His warm laughed echoed again in her ear. “Alright, darling. Speak soon.” 

Rosemary let out a small sigh and placed the phone back onto her desk. She turned her attention towards Jules’ uneasy form. She’d walked into the office at Rosemary’s insistence but remained hovering near the doorway. “What can I help you with, Jules?” The unease on Jules’ face unnerved her and a sudden fear bubbled through Rosemary. “Is everything alright with Ingrid and the baby?” 

This seemed to calm Jules slightly and she relaxed her shoulders, walking towards the desk and settling into the chair across. “Yes, she and the little one, she had a boy, did I not tell you?, are fine. She was discharged last week. The baby, David he’s called, is still in NICU but Frank says the doctors think he should be ready to come home in another week or so if his lungs keep developing at the rate they are. So all good there.” 

Rosemary smiled, reaching out to grasp Jules hand and squeeze it gently. “That’s fantastic, I’m so glad everything is well with them.” 

Jules offered her a genuine smile. “Me too.” 

Silence fell between them once again. 

“Is everything alright with the shop? Please tell me that Jordan isn’t completely messing up the shipments…again.” 

Jules laughed, shaking her head. “No more than usual. Everything is fine, Evan’s holding up far better than I expected him to. He may be worth his salt after all.” Both women chuckled. “Online orders are holding well too. And things are good here?” 

Rosemary nodded. “Yeah, Hanna is well worth her weight in gold.” She paused, smiling. “The shop here is doing far better than I hoped it would.” 

“I’m so glad. I know _Stories_ has been your baby for a long time now. You’re doing Agnes and Henry proud, you know.” She offered Rosemary a warm smile. 

_Stories Untold_ had been a small but well maintained bookshop under Agnes and Henry Goode, something they had started after retirement to keep each other occupied and to fulfill a childhood dream of Agnes’.  Both Rosemary and Jules had been two of the first people hired on. They had watched the shop grow and when Agnes’ health had gotten too poorly for her or Henry to continue with its upkeep, Rosemary had jumped at the chance to take the shop under her own wing with their blessing. It had been a challenge and one she’d frequently feared she’d ultimately fail at. Jules had been beside her through the thick and thin. Having her support and her belief had meant the world. 

“I hope so.” 

Jules took a deep breath, seeming to come to a decision. “I’m sorry.” 

Taken aback, Rosemary stared at the woman sitting before her. 

When she didn’t respond, Jules carried on, “I know you’ve been angry with me and things haven’t been right between us, not since that last lunch…Or well since the morning after our quest to drink greater London out of wine,” She laughed nervously and ran a hand through her hair, “Anyway, I miss my friend. And I want to try to mend this.” 

Rosemary did not speak for several minutes, staring first at the desk before her then at her hands. Jules was undoubtedly one of her closest friends and the strain between them had been a difficult burden to bear. Most of the anger she’d felt had faded, more of tiny flame than the raging inferno, but there was still an unease between them that unsettled her. She had always trusted Jules’ judgement, as opinionated as her friend was Jules usually saw things with a level head. And while she could understand Jules’ hesitance in trusting Tom and his motives, Rosemary found it difficult to reconcile. “I miss you too,” she finally spoke, raising her eyes to Jules. “And I know I’ve not been the easiest person to deal with; taking my anger out on you was unnecessary and not at all fair. But can you understand why?” 

Jules nodded slowly, “I don’t like Tom. You know that, not after what he did. He didn’t see the mess he left, I did. And I know how you were with him and I couldn’t bear to see you hurt again. You are as good as a sister to me, Rose, and it kills me to see you hurt. But I pushed too far and, drunk or not, I shouldn’t have done what I did. I’m sorry for that. Really I am.” 

“No you shouldn’t have.” Her tone was harsher than she had intended. She shook her head briefly and carried on. “But I do understand. At least partially. You care. You are the closest thing I have to a sister as well. But Jules, I am an adult. I can make my own choices as to what I can and cannot handle. And if I fall flat then that is on me. Trust that given time I can pull myself up and dust myself off and move on.”  

Jules smiled softly at Rosemary and nodded. She was silent for several moments before locking her eyes on Rosemary and asking, “Are we okay?” 

Rosemary shrugged. “We’re friends, that hasn’t changed. But I’m still…I understand why you pushed, but it doesn’t mean that I’m fully sure I can completely forgive you for doing so.” She paused, reaching her hand out towards Jules’ and grasping it firmly in hers. “But I don’t want to be angry with you anymore. It’s not solving anything. I just need you to trust me and my own judgement. Please.” 

Squeezing her hand in return, Jules chuckled and then nodded, “I can’t guarantee I won’t make a right mess of it, but I can try.” 

“That’s all I ask.” 

“So,” Jules started, her eyes glancing briefly at the phone then back towards her friend, “who’s the raincheck on?” 

Rosemary smiled softly, knowing that this would certainly put their new found truce to the test. _In for a penny…_ She straightened in her seat, resting her elbows neatly on the desk, her hands folded before her. “Tom.” 

She could see Jules slight start at the name. “Oh. So you patched things up?” The concern and hesitancy in her voice was clear as was the fact that she was holding back. 

“We’re trying,” Rosemary answered honestly. She shrugged. “We’ve been talking off and on for the last few weeks or so. It’s been…” she struggled to find a suitable word, “honestly really nice.” 

Jules nodded but did not speak. Rosemary could see the wheels turning in her head. The silent ‘are you sure this is a good idea’ that screamed in her eyes. “So,” she started, leaning her hands on her thighs, “how did this happen?” 

Rosemary let out a soft sigh, “He came by my flat. He apologized, I apologized. We talked, we were honest with each other.” She paused, shrugging lightly. It was nice to talk about Tom to someone. Even if Jules appeared dubious, at least she’d told _someone_. “He is a friend, or at least I want him to be. I missed him, Jules. Missed being able to talk to him. Can you understand that?” 

“I don’t know, Rose. Really I don’t…I want to trust that you know what you are doing because usually you do. You are one of the most level headed people I know, but with him…You’re a smart woman…Just be careful, okay. Don’t let him talk you into something you aren’t ready for. Please just try to keep your head.” Jules held up her hand at Rosemary’s stuttered protests. “You are my friend and I worry, but you are more than capable of making your own decisions and knowing what you want. Just make sure you think it through.” She smiled warmly at Rosemary, her hands resting in her lap. “That’s all I’m going to say.” 

“Somehow I doubt that.” Rosemary sighed, “I understand what you are saying, Jules. But it’s my life, my choice. He is my friend. That is all, I’m not going to make that same mistake again. You need to trust me and trust that I can learn from the past.” 

“Okay. Okay.” Jules pushed herself up from the chair and looked knowingly at her friend. “I was going to head out to grab a bite before heading back to the shop. You interested?” 

Rosemary smiled softly in return. “Any chance of a change in venue?” 

She watched Jules’ red brow quirk and a wicked grin spread across her face. “From our usual? Perish the thought!” 

With a roll of her eyes, Rosemary stood and beckoned her friend. “Come on then.” 

 

—

 

“So sorry it’s taken me so long to ring back.” Rosemary settled herself onto her couch, trying to suppress a groan. Lunch with Jules had been nice, still a bit tense round the edges, but nice all the same. She’d missed her friend and being able to start to mend that bridge had taken a weight off her mind. There was still a ways for them to go, but for now she had her friend back. 

The rest of the day had been relatively uneventful, frustrating mounds of paperwork notwithstanding; Hanna had been taking on more and more of the daily routines and was now practically starting to run the shop on her own. She would give it another week or so before she began to transition back to the original location and then flit back and forth as needed. It was almost bittersweet. 

“Darling, that is quite alright.” His voice was warm in her ear and she fought the urge to groan again. “Busy day, I take it?” 

Rosemary nodded and when it dawned on her that he could not, in fact, see her response answered, “Yes. The shop’s doing well. Both are actually.” She laughed softly. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, you know?” She sat fully upright, frowning as her stomach gave a grumble of protest. It had been several hours since lunch, something her body was obviously not pleased about. _Alright then let’s see what we’ve got to work with._ She pushed herself to her feet and stumbled into the kitchen. 

“I do,” Tom answered. She could hear the smile in his voice. “But I seriously doubt that it will happen. You have a good head on your shoulders and from what you’ve told me you have good people working with and for you. I think you’ll be alright.” 

The fridge wasn’t as barren as she’d feared. _Thank god for small miracles._ Pulling out the container of Alfredo sauce she’d found, and cautiously sniffed just to be safe, Rosemary went in search of whatever pasta was to hand. 

Rosemary sighed as she pulled open the cabinet door. “I know, I know. But you know my mind sometimes.” Tom laughed at this, pulling smile to her face. She pulled down a box and studied it _Spaghetti it is then_. “I saw Jules today, we hadn’t had a chance to catch up in a while. So that was lovely.” Phone balanced precariously between her ear and shoulder, she carried her boon to the stovetop. She grabbed the pot sitting on the back burner and headed for the sink, quickly filling it. As she turned to make her way back towards the stove the phone slipped and fell with a clatter to the floor. “Shit!” She dropped the pot hastily on the stove and dove for her phone, mumbling curses under her breath. “So, so sorry. I am the worst sort of klutz,” she apologized. She hit the speaker function and placed the phone carefully onto the counter. 

“You quite alright there, Rosie?” 

Rosemary laughed, trying to cover her sudden flustering nervousness. “Yeah, I was just attempting to multi-task and failing horribly. Apparently I cannot handle talking on the phone and cooking at the same time. I kind of dropped you.” 

Tom laughed heartily. “Oh my dear, what am I ever going to do with you?” 

“God knows.” She set the pot to boil and headed back into the living room but not before grabbing a package of crisps. “I don’t even know what I’m going to do with me.” She ripped open the package and settled onto the couch. She popped a few of the crisps into her mouth, it wasn’t much but god she was starving. 

“So how is Jules? You’ve not spoken of her recently?” 

Rosemary sighed, resting her head back against the headrest of the couch. “She’s well. We had lunch today. It’s been awhile since…” She trailed off, rubbing her temples with her free hand. “We had a bit of a falling out a month or so back.” 

“Seriously?” The confusion was evident in his voice. “Over what?” 

She hesitated.

“Rosie?” Tom urged. She could plainly hear the dawning knowledge in his voice and his need to hear her actually say it. 

A deep sigh fell from her lips, “You…Technically. She was drinking with me that night…She may or may not have been the catalyst for that stupid call.” She sat up more fully and rested her forehead against her upturned hand. “I was upset and angry with her for putting the damned idea in my head and for being so against me even talking to you…I told her off and we stopped talking about everything save the bloody shop.” 

“Oh Rosie…”

“Don’t Tom.” Her voice was tighter than she’d intended. “It’s over. She and I will be fine. We always are. We’ve talked and I’ve made it clear that I am capable of making my own choices. So don’t worry about it.” 

A hissing from the kitchen snapped her attention back to the present. “Shit!” she shouted as she jumped from the couch and scrambled into the kitchen. 

“What?” Tom’s voice shouted in her ear. “What’s wrong?” 

Hitting the speaker button again, she placed the phone on the counter. “The blasted water is boiling over,” she hissed as she grabbed the pot and lifted it from the heat. Once the water settled, placed it back on the burner. She grabbed the package of spaghetti and emptied it into the pot. 

“Careful or you’ll burn the place down.” 

“Ha, bloody ha, Hiddleston. I can actually cook you know.” She stirred the pasta into the water and left it to return to a boil, setting the kitchen timer before walking back into the living room. “It’s not my fault I was distracted.” 

Tom laughed, “If you insist, darling.” 

“And if I do?” She queried, settling back onto the couch. He laughed again. “So Tom, about that rain check? Are you free tomorrow afternoon by any chance?” 

He groaned and she could clearly see him rubbing his temples with his hand. “I can’t.” 

She tried to stifle the initial wave of disappointment. “Oh...” 

“I have a lunch meeting with my manager tomorrow. But I’m free the day after. Would that be alright?” 

Rosemary smiled. “That would be perfect.”


	8. EIGHT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now for a change of pace in this chapter we get to hear a little from Tom's view. There were certain situations and happenings I felt needed to be seen from his eyes, and while Tom focused chapters won't heavily feature in this story, there will be one or two more after this before the end.

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

 

Tom let out an exasperated sigh as he glanced at the clock on the wall. He couldn’t seem to focus and it was driving him nearly out of his mind with frustration. He’d dropped more things that day than he had for as long as he could remember; books, his phone, his keys, just about anything his fingers touched. He’d gotten lost during conversations; Luke had told him off quite spectacularly when he’d done so during the phone conference that they’d planned for weeks. And, to add insult to injury, he’d had very nearly tripped over Bobby, who’d been demanding a walk since before Tom had been fully conscious; twice. It was utterly ridiculous. But no matter what he did or how hard he’d tried, his mind kept wandering back to his phone call with Rosie the night before. 

It had been wonderful to just be able to talk with her again. To be able to share his thoughts with her and to be able to hear hers in return. To once again have a peek into the world as she saw it. It was something he’d spent so long convinced he’d never have again. Something he’d reluctantly surrendered due to his own massive stupidity and shortsightedness. These last two weeks had honestly been some of the best of his life. Just knowing that she was a part of his world again; that she _wanted_ to be a part of it was so far beyond anything he’d dared to hope for.

Still the unease he’d felt when she’d causally mentioned her fallout with Jules refused to be shaken. He’d only met the tall redhead a handful of times and in all of those she’d been warm and openly friendly towards him. But that had been before he’d broken her friend’s heart. And knowing just how close the two women were Tom could hardly blame Jules for hating him. He certainly would have. And knowing that because of him, even in such a roundabout way, they’d become estranged made the guilt he still carried that much harsher and harder to bear. 

His kneejerk reaction had been to fix it. To jump right in without pausing to think if he had any right to do so. To do whatever he could to make it right. But the last time he’d gone off halfcocked in such a manner it had blown up quite spectacularly in his face. And, more importantly, he’d hurt Rosie. And badly. He couldn’t do that again. He refused to. 

Tom took a deep breath and ran his hand through his already disheveled hair. There was little he could do about what had happened, he knew that. They would fix it on their own and in their own time. His interfering would only serve to make things worse. _And Rosie said that they’re okay now_ , he told himself. _Just let them fix it on their own. Let it go, Hiddleston. Just let it go_. 

He’d been pacing his living room nearly since he’d walked in the door half an hour previously. Bobby, sensing his master’s nervous energy, had been uncharacteristically whiny and jumpy. After nearly tripping over him, _again_ , Tom finally decided that enough was enough. He knew that if he didn’t do something, and soon, he would surely lose what was left of his mind. 

“Aw, buddy, I’m so sorry,” he murmured, reaching down to scratch the spaniel on his head. Bobby looked at him, head cocked slightly to the side. “I’ve got you all out of sorts haven’t I?” The spaniel barked once in answer and Tom chuckled to himself. 

He stood quickly and headed for the side door where he kept Bobby’s lead. He turned back noting with a hint of amusement that the spaniel had followed him on his quest, and held up the lead. “Walkies?”

Bobby barked and bounced excitedly which caused Tom to laugh aloud. 

“I’ll take that as a yes then.

 

—

 

It had taken nearly half an hour for the pair to head out into the unseasonably chilled April afternoon; Bobby bundled in his quilted vest and Tom in his reliable, and mercifully warm, black wool coat. Door locked firmly behind him, he led Bobby down the front stairs and out the gate heading towards the main road. 

The sidewalks were relatively crowded for so early on a weekday afternoon, but Tom played it little mind. The neighborhood was a relatively quiet one and he was hardly ever bothered walking in and around it. He’d made the decision to take them both on a few warm up laps through the quiet streets of his neighborhood before heading towards the ironed gates of the nearby park. The park was only a five minute walk from the house and had been one of the reasons he’d chosen to live there in the first place. It was large and had a long, winding path that was an excellent jogging site and one he frequented as often as he could. 

An hour later saw Tom, and Bobby, making their second circuit around the leafy paved jogging path in the park. His head was markedly clearer but the heaviness that had come with it was still there. Bobby, for his part, seemed completely content. He’d kept a good pace with his master, stopping only occasionally when a particular tree or object caught his attention. A marked change from his puppyhood days where any and everything was both a potential friend and a dangerous enemy all at once. _What a difference a few years made_ , Tom thought to himself with a breathless laugh. 

Tom began to slow as they approached an empty bench along the path. The lace of his left trainer had loosened significantly during his run and he could feel the shoe slipping with each stride he took. The last thing he wanted was for the damned thing to come off or to trip him up. Because he knew that was when a lone photographer would be certain to show and preserve the moment for posterity. Especially given the way his luck had been running as of late. _Luke would just find_ that _fucking hilarious_.

With a shake of his head, Tom propped his foot up on the bench, bending to tighten the loosened laces. His breathing was coming in harsh pants, his chest burning with the effort. God, he really was frighteningly out of shape. He’d cut back a bit on his running during the winter months; he still went as faithfully as he could every morning but not for anywhere near his usual distance, and now he was clearly paying for it. Bobby, who’s lead had been tied to the bench leg as he was oft to go ‘exploring’ if left unattended, bounced around Tom barking every so often at a passing jogger or squirrel, it didn’t much seem to matter which.   

As he bent to his task, Tom heard rather than saw the women who had knelt beside the now jumping dog, scratching behind his ears and telling him in a soft, sweet voice just how handsome he was. The voice was strangely familiar though he couldn’t seem to place exactly why. Laces finally tied, he turned to face the woman and Bobby. Tom worked to quickly school his features into warm, but neutral politeness. He’d had far too many ‘chance’ encounters with women; mostly fans and, thankfully, mostly harmless, in the last few years to not be at least somewhat on his guard. He startled as a strangely familiar mass of red hair caught his attention. 

 _Surely not_. 

The woman raised her head at Tom’s movement and he watched, torn between amusement and alarm, as Jules’ eyes widened in recognition. _Speak of the devil,_ he thought with a flash of amusement. He watched as they quickly narrowed into green slits before slowly relaxing back into a carefully controlled neutrality. Jules stood staring at him, arms crossed at her chest. “Tom,” she stated, her voice a shade too even. Too controlled. 

“Jules,” he responded, his own voice as even as he could make it. He offered her a friendly smile and then, not quite knowing what else to do, he continued, “And how have you been?” As soon as the words left his lips he regretted them. His words sounded flippant and dismissive even to his own ears. God only knew how she would take them. Of all the stupid things he could have possibly said… 

“I honestly don’t have any desire to talk niceties with you,” she snapped back, her eyes narrowing once more at him. 

Tom felt himself flinch. Her dislike of him clearly hadn’t been exaggerated, not that he believed Rosie would have done such a thing. He let out a resigned sigh. Well there went any hope of a polite encounter. He took a deep breath to gather himself and held his hands palms up in a gesture of surrender. “Look, I know you don’t like me,” he started, eyes settled on her face. “And honestly I can’t say that I blame you....” 

Jules scoffed at this, shaking her head as she cut him off. “Damn right, I don’t.” She unfolded her arms, letting them drop to her sides before shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket, and continued to glare. She appeared not to care overmuch that they were in a public setting nor how much her voice carried. His eye darted around the surrounding path but no one at the moment seemed to be paying them any mind. “Do you honestly think that just because you smile and act like a gentleman for the fucking fans and the damned cameras means you can treat people, who for some god forsaken reason love you, like they don’t fucking matter?” 

He blinked at her stunned confusion, irritation bubbling steadily inside of him. “Now wait just a minute…” 

She reeled on him, “No,” she hissed, jabbing a finger aggressively into his chest. “You are a conceited ass! You expect people to fall all over themselves if you flash them a smile. Well believe you me, I’m not buying it.” She paused, chest heaving slightly. After several moments silence she continued. “I don’t have the first idea what she sees in you. She fucking loved you. _Loved_ you and you threw her away like she was nothing! Do you have _any_ idea what that did to her? Do you?” 

Tom stood, motionless as she continued her tirade, each word slamming into him with the force of a blow. He’d wanted to snap back at her how unfair she was being, how she had no idea how badly doing so had hurt him as well, but knew there was nothing he could say in his own defense. She was absolutely right. He had been a complete and utter bastard and nothing he could do or say would change that. But he wanted to. God, how he wanted to.

“She was a fucking _mess_ for months,” Jules hissed. Tom’s reaction seeming to matter little in her need to lay everything out in the open. “She blamed herself, do you know that? She kept saying that if she had just kept her mouth shut then you wouldn’t have left.” She laughed coldly at that.  “God, do you know how hard it was to sit there and watch that? Jesus. It didn’t make one bit of difference what I said to her. How much I told her that it wasn’t her. She wouldn’t listen!” She paused again, taking a deep breath before continuing. “But then she met Bryan. They weren’t perfect but she seemed to be getting better. With him. He made her smile and she was happy,” her voice softened slightly but quickly turned back into steel as her eyes caught his. “And then you just had to come waltzing back in, fucking with her head. I found her after you left, did you know that? She was devastated and there wasn’t a fucking thing I could do. Again. She’s my best friend and I had to watch her tear herself apart because you just _had_ to have the last fucking say. You were gone why the fuck did you come back? She was _happy_.”

Tom swallowed, his throat felt tight and for a moment he wasn’t sure he could breathe. “I don’t know,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with the effort. He quietly looked down at his hands before continuing, “I wanted to fix it. I wanted to apologize for what I’d done to her. For how badly I known I’d hurt her. I just thought if I could explain; let her know that it was me; it was always me and never, _ever_ , her, that she could know that none of what happened was her fault. That she could have finally have some form of closure. I wanted nothing more than for her to be happy.” He raised his eyes to hers, hoping she could understand. “I just wanted to make it right.” 

Jules stared at him, her eyes narrowed in unadulterated suspicion. “You’ve done a bang up job of that,” she spat. “Do you know that shortly after your little impromptu therapy session she ended things with Bryan?  He was good for her, he wanted to help her, fuck he encouraged her to talk to you, to get all of this,” she gesticulated wildly, “out so that she could finally let you go. He was there for her, cared for her, and she pushed him away. Because of you.”

He felt his heart stutter in his chest. Rosie had mentioned in passing that she and Bryan had ended, but hadn’t elaborated on the how or the why. And he hadn’t asked. Hadn’t wanted to know. Another wave of guilt washed through him. He hadn’t meant to cause her any more pain or grief and yet that was all he had seemed to do. “I was wrong to do that to her,” Tom whispered, fighting to keep himself focused. “It was stupid and completely selfish of me and I own that without question. And I know there isn’t any way for me to make up for what I’ve done and the hurt I’ve caused her.” 

Tom paused again, gathering himself. “But I need to you understand that I love her. That has not changed. I’ve been an absolute and utter tit about it, but I do love her.” He looked Jules directly in her eyes, hoping she could see that he meant it. Every single word of it. “I don’t know what is happening between us now and I will not speak for her, but no matter what happens I am here and I will not go unless she asks me to. Whatever she wants between us; be it friendship or something more, I will take it and be grateful for it. She’s given me another chance, though god only knows it’s far more than I deserve, and I absolutely refuse to waste it. I’ve already wasted so many.”

“I wish I could believe that for her sake,” Jules answered, honestly. “But I’ve seen this song and dance before, Tom. And I’ve seen just how it ends.” She paused, shaking her head and laughed humorlessly. “She can’t say no to you and I think you know that. She’ll bend herself over backwards to make you happy and that’s honestly not fair to her.” She laughed again. It resonated with concern and uncertainty. “She’s had a rough few months. Especially with how things ended with Adam. I don’t want her to throw herself into something that could just make matters worse.”

Tom blinked at Jules in confusion. It took several moments for him to gather himself enough to speak. When he did the name fell from his lips in a near whisper. “Adam?” He lowered himself onto the bench, ignoring Bobby’s incessant barking. He’d never heard Rosie utter that name before but the way Jules spoke of him told Tom just how important he must have been. _She never said.._. He felt an all too familiar sinking sense of dread flood through his gut.

Jules let out a quiet, mirthless chuckle; her eyes held a look of what he thought was almost pity, but he couldn’t say with any certainty. “They were together nearly two years. Happiest I’ve seen her in the longest time. They’d talked about moving in together and she’d mentioned entertaining the idea of marriage.” She paused again, shrugging. “But he got a job in the states. And with the shop and her life here…Well…He took the promotion and they quietly ended things. She was heartbroken and honestly so was he. It took her a long time to start to bounce back. I don’t want to see her get hurt again. Especially, not by you.” 

Tom opened his mouth to respond then, just as quickly, shut it. He pushed himself to his feet and began to pace back and forth, vaguely aware of Jules’ stare and Bobby’s confused barking. He didn’t know what to think about anything he’d just heard, let alone what to possibly say in response. In the back of his mind, he’d always known there was a distinct possibility Rosie would find someone else; someone far better for her than he could ever hope to be. At first he had thought it might have been Bryan. 

He’d only seen the man once, in passing, and the little he’d known of him had come from Rosie herself. It had hurt, yes, but not as badly as he had always believed it would. Looking back he wondered if it was because he had sensed Rosie’s own uncertainty. She had said she cared for him but never that she’d loved him. And with that he had, unconsciously at least, known that there was still a chance. A remotely possibility. But Adam…Adam seemed something else entirely. And Tom found that being faced with the reality that she _had_ found someone rather than simply the _idea_ of it, another matter entirely. 

He took a deep, steadying breath and tried to make sense of his thoughts. “I don’t want to see her hurt again either,” he whispered, honestly. “I truly, truly don’t. I understand your concern and I know just how important she is to you. And you are to her.” He paused, looking Jules directly in the eyes. “I know my track record is far, far less than impressive, but I meant what I said. I love her. She means the world to me and I won’t make the same mistake again. I won’t.” He closed his eyes and took another short, calming breath, “I don’t know what the future holds or even if there is one for us, but I won’t walk away again. Not unless she tells me to and even then I’m not entirely sure that I could. I love her and right now, just having her as a friend is enough.” 

Jules studied him quizzically, her eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms once again at her chest. “And when it’s not?” Her words were pointed, direct. Tom felt his heart plummet at them. He hadn’t let himself think anything beyond the fact that Rosie had let him back into her life. And how grateful he had been for it. That had been enough. But now the idea was there, he wasn’t sure he could let it be. Flashing Tom a knowing smile and a quirked eyebrow, Jules dropped to scratch Bobby’s ear once more and walked away. 

With her words echoing through his head, Tom dropped himself silently back onto the bench. He loved Rosie, loved her deeply. That was one thing in which he was completely and utterly sure. She had loved him, at one point, and possibly still did despite everything that had happened. But he couldn’t know for sure. There was a history between them, as messy and convoluted as it was. What was less certain, however, was their future. She wanted his friendship, wanted him in her life. And he was happy with that. Happy because he was very well aware of just how it felt to have lived his life without her. Just how lucky he was that she was giving him another chance when he’d blown so many.

But would that be enough? Could he really be content with that if, when push came to shove, Rosie decided friendship was all she would ever want from him? That she cared for him but not enough for anything more. And if that were the case, could he stand by and be supportive if, he couldn’t bear to think _when,_ she found someone else? Watch as she gave her heart completely to another man? Built a life with another? Married? Had children? 

The idea filled him with an agonizing dread. He ran shaky hands through his hair and forced himself to take several deep breaths. The honest truth was he wasn’t sure he could handle it. And he didn’t know what that meant for him or for them.


	9. NINE

**CHAPTER NINE**

  

With a growing sense of unease, Rosemary stared at Tom from across the table. His auburn hair was disheveled, the reason becoming all too obvious as he ran his hand through it yet again. His clothing was neat but beginning to show its wear, she could see a definite hole forming at the elbow of his jumper. She had smirked at his clothing choice, or his uniform as she’d come to think of it; dark blue jumper, dark jeans, and grey boots. It was simple and perfectly him. His glasses sat ever so slightly askew on his nose. He looked much as she’d come to expect him too. But she still couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that some about him was wrong…Well maybe not wrong, but off. 

A small voice in the back of her mind whispered that it must have to do with her. It was stupid and ridiculous but the thought simply wouldn’t dissipate. The idea that maybe, just maybe he’d sat and really thought about what was happening between them and decided, once more, that whatever it was wasn’t worth it. She attempted to mentally shake the thought away. He was here now, they were friends, everything was fine. And even if it wasn’t, there was little to be achieved by worrying. _Like that’s ever stopped me…_

“Rosie?” 

She jumped at the sound of her name, her eyes quickly shooting up to lock on his as she was jolted back into the present. There was a definite mix of humor and concern in their depths. And yet there was something deeper in them that she could not place. “Hmm?” 

Tom cocked his head slightly to the side seemingly studying her. She felt strange under his gaze.  “Are you alright?”

Rosemary stifled the laugh that threatened to burst from her throat. Was she alright? “Yes, sorry.” She attempted to cover her embarrassment with a sip from her water. “My mind wandered away from me.” She paused again, looking up into his face again. “Are _you_ alright?” 

Had she not been watching him so intently, Rosemary would have missed the way he flinched at the question. It was such a small action, so incredibly subtle, something so easy to miss. But she had seen it and was desperate to know just what it had meant. “Tom?” she queried, both anxious for and dreading his answer. 

Tom took a deep breath and offered her a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.” Her eyes widened and dread settled in her gut. Her face must have given her away because Tom was quick to add. “Please, don’t worry about it, Rosie. It’s alright, we’re alright. It’s something that I’m doing my best to work through.” He reached out and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. “I’m not trying to hide or keep anything from you; I just need time to work through this. And when I have, I promise you I will speak of it with you.” 

She wanted to believe him. To be able to take him at his word and know without a doubt that he would share whatever it was with her when he was ready. But the doubt was a difficult thing to shake, especially when Tom’s MO had always been evasion and followed swiftly by flight. He was trying though; she had to believe in that if nothing else. And if he was trying then she need to at least strive to do the same. Forcing a smile to her own face, she squeezed his hand in return. “Alright. I can accept that.”

The smile the lighted his face this time seemed more genuine than its predecessor and that, in turn, eased some of the tension she’d been carrying. Neither spoke for several minutes. 

“Thank you,” Tom whispered, breaking the silence. His eyes were warm and sincere as he spoke. 

Rosemary looked at him in momentary confusion. 

He laughed softly and continued. “For giving me another chance; one I’m not sure I fully deserve…” he trailed off for a moment before appearing to gather himself. “Regardless, I’m grateful.”

She stared at him, not quite sure how to respond. Her first thought was to tell him he was being ridiculous; they’d agreed to let it go and move forward, it was done. That she’d been given the same chance by him and if he felt he hadn’t earned his how could she have possibly earned her own? But that would spark a debate and would only hurt them both. Rosemary didn’t want that. There had been more than enough hurt between them.

Instead, she offered him a smile and took his hand in hers once again. “I am too.” 

Momentary confusion colored his features then understanding dawned. He returned her smile, looked as though he wanted to challenge her meaning but seemed to think better of it and simply squeezed her hand in response.

The café Tom had chosen was busy enough by lunch crowd standards but not overly so. It was calmer, more sedate than she’d expected and because of that Rosemary felt herself relax. Spending time in public with Tom was still strange and often left her feeling more than a little uneasy. It was silly, she knew, but it was a hard feeling to relinquish. She had been so used to _before_ , when they would spend all of their time hidden away. There had been something to hide then, she’d reasoned. And now, perhaps, their friendship was somehow safer in public than when there had been more between them. Whatever the cause, she refused to let herself think on it more than was strictly necessary. Worrying over what she could not control would do her little good. It never had before. But still, it was easier said than done. 

“How was your meeting with Luke? And…Michael was it?” She asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between them once again.

“Yes. Michael, my agent here.” Tom hesitated for a moment before smiling continuing on, “Fairly well. We were finalizing a new project.” 

Rosemary’s eyebrow rose. “Oh now, care to share? Or is it a secret? I don’t want to get you in trouble.” But her curiosity had been well and truly peaked. And from the look on Tom’s face he knew it as well. 

A laugh fell from his lips, warm and joyous, and he shook his head. “No. No, it’s not a secret, per say, but I can’t speak about it in too much detail.” He paused and sipped his water. “If all goes according to plan I’ll be back on the London stage come late summer, early fall at the latest.”

The smile that lit his eyes warmed Rosemary’s heart. He’d spoken often about how he enjoyed stage work and how he wished he could do more. He loved films, but he longed to stretch his legs on the boards once again. To throw himself into a character knowing that it was just him and the actors he shared the stage with; no editors, no reshoots, just an open and honest performance. And now it looked as if he would be able to do so again. She was utterly thrilled for him.

“Tom,” she gushed, reaching out and taking his hand. She squeezed it in a rush of affection. “That is absolutely fantastic. I’m so happy for you.”

He returned her smile and gently squeezed her hand back. “I cannot wait. It’s been far too long.” Tom paused and looked directly at Rosemary, hope and excitement blazing in his eyes. “You’ll have to come once we’ve opened.” 

Rosemary blushed softly and fought the warmth that threatened to overwhelm her. He’d asked her to come as a friend; for support, nothing more. She needed to get her head firmly back on lest it run away on her down a path that simply couldn’t be an option. “Just let me know when. I’d love to see you onstage.” 

Conversation ceased shortly thereafter brought on by the arrival of their respective meals. And for that Rosemary was secretly grateful. It gave her the chance to focus herself back into the present and work to relax once again. To stop her mind from wandering down the path of ‘what if?’

They ate in companionable silence occasionally commenting on their respective dishes and offering each other bits to try. It was wonderful, spending time with Tom like this. Just being able to sit and _be_ with him. Once they had finished and the bill laid to the table, Tom quickly grabbed and settled it, waving off Rosemary’s protests. “I invited you, darling. I should pay.” 

She narrowed her eyes but acquiesced with a much grace as she could; fighting Tom on the matter was a futile effort and she damn well knew it. But that didn’t mean she was going to give in completely. “I’m covering next time, mind you.” Her gaze on his face was firm and serious.

Tom smiled broadly at this. “Certainly.” His answering expression told her that the chances of him actually letting that happen were slim to none. She bristled slightly but quickly shook the feeling off. Tom didn’t mean anything by it other than simply wanting to treat her, she knew that. He was a giving person, especially for those he cared about. The idea that he cared for her warmed her heart in ways she dared not to think too closely on.

Rosemary pointed a finger at him, “I mean it, Hiddleston.”

Another hearty chuckle fell from his lips, “I know you do, Rosie.” He stood and tucked his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans. “Shall we?” She nodded, standing and hooking her bag over her left shoulder. Side by side they headed from the dining area of the café and towards the hallway that served as its main entrance.

Tom turned to Rosie as they neared the door. “Are you up for a walk? I’m not quite ready for the afternoon to end.” He paused and a look of delayed concern crossed his brow. “I mean if you don’t have to rush back to the shop. Don’t let me keep you.” Rosie reached up and took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently. He smiled softly at her. 

Rosie smiled warmly back at Tom. She hadn’t wanted to part company with him either. Hanna had the shop well in hand and she knew that Jules had everything at the flagship location very much under control as well. There was no need to rush away. She nodded at him. “Yes, that sounds wonderful.” She was about to open her mouth to ask where he wanted to go when Tom’s phone rang. 

With a sheepish smile, Tom fished his phone out of his pocket. “Luke,” he mouthed at her as he hit answer. “Hello, Luke…Whoa, slow down. What?” Tom’s brows narrowed in confusion and his expression grew grim the longer Luke talked. “What pictures? Luke, I have no bloody idea what you’re on about…Oh…” His voice died away. 

Rosemary watched in growing concern as Tom’s face went a shade lighter. She felt her own color fade as his words processed in her mind. _Pictures? There were pictures? Of what? Of_ us _? Where? How?_ It was abundantly clear that whatever the pictures were about they clearly were something neither he nor Luke were pleased about. _Please not of us. Not if it makes him this angry_. She couldn’t make out Luke’s words from where she stood but Tom’s expression coupled with the raised voice she could just barely hear spoke volumes. 

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “No. That is not what bloody happened! I didn’t see any bleeding photographers! Yes dammit, I remember!” He paced around the small hallway, free hand jammed mercilessly in his pocket, and Rosemary could feel the tension rolling off him in waves. He threw a hand up in exasperation and with an apologetic nod to Rosemary, headed back into the café.

Several minutes passed and with it no sign of Tom. This couldn’t be good. Not by any stretch any imagination. Rosemary let out a soft sigh and wondered if maybe it would be better if she just left. She had no idea when or even if Tom would be coming back. And if he did that he would even want her there. The indecision that had faded almost to a dull murmur over the last hour came suddenly roaring back to life. Something had happened. Something that Luke was obviously up in arms about. Something that clearly unsettled and angered Tom. Something that very well may have to do with them. Maybe it was best if she simply left. 

With hesitant resolve, she metaphorically straightened her back, turned and headed for the door. “Rosie,” Tom’s voice called behind her, a wash of concern and barely concealed frustration. “Wait.” 

She paused and took a deep breath before turning to face him. “Is everything alright?” It was a stupid question. A very stupid question and she bloody well knew it. Of course he wasn’t alright. He had a set to his shoulders that belied as much even if his face hadn’t held tell-tale signs of strain and annoyance. 

“I’m fine.” His tone was terse and bordered very much on the edges of cold. She felt herself bristle automatically. “Are we done here?” He all but snapped as he gestured vaguely around at the empty hallway. 

Uncertainty warred with anger inside her. Rosemary didn’t know what had exactly had gotten him so up in arms but she knew damn well she didn’t have to take him lashing out at her over it. “Are we?” she challenged. 

Tom paused, looking at her in confused annoyance, his shoulders tense. “And just what do you mean by that?” 

“You know what, on second thought I think I’m going to have to bow out on our walk. You obviously have something you need to work through and frankly I don’t feel like bearing the brunt of it until you do, if it’s all the same to you.” Rosemary didn’t bother to take in Tom’s reaction to her words, instead turning on her heel and walking out into the busy London sidewalk.

—

The door closed with a loud bang behind her and Rosemary threw herself backwards to lean heavily against it. Storming off as she’d done had been a mistake, that much had become abundantly clear on her journey back to the flat, but she knew that there was no way for her to take it back. She’d known Tom had been on edge, it would have been clear even to a blind man, but she hadn’t expected him to snap at her and she’d reacted, albeit poorly, in her own right. _A right fine mess indeed_. 

A soft ping from her left-hand side alerted her to a text message. Sliding herself down to the floor and settling firmly upon it, she pulled her purse to her and searched its recesses for her phone. It took several tries before she located it, hiding at the bottom of the bag. She flicked on the screen and saw one new message awaiting her. 

Hanna.

‘ _So we’ve had a bit of a set back with our distributor. Said they didn’t get the last authorization form. Do you still have the scanned version in your email? I can’t find the original to save my life._ ’

Rosemary grumbled as she pulled herself back up to her feet and padded towards the couch. She picked up her laptop from its resting place on the coffee table and settled herself back against the worn cushions. While the device booted itself she fired off a quick response to Hanna. 

‘ _Not sure. I will check and get back to you_.’ 

She dropped her phone onto the couch beside her and made quick work of logging herself into the computer. A few clicks brought open her email program and web browser. She scanned the contents of her sent folder and “Bingo,” she whispered, clicking open the message with attached authorization form. She grabbed her phone and let Hanna know that she had found said form and would be forwarding it onto her. 

A sigh fell from her lips. “Right, there’s that problem sorted.” She laughed softly. If only the others were that simple. She allowed her eyes to scan over the homepage her browser had defaulted to. Most of the ‘news’ items could barely be considered that but, occasionally, one or two could be more than a little amusing. So she hadn’t made any bother in changing it. 

One headline in particular grabbed at her attention. She sat frozen, mouse hovering over the ‘read more’ link, uncertain if she actually wanted to click it. Curiosity won out and without letting herself think further on it, she clicked the link and waited for the article and accompanying photographs to load.

 

‘ ** _Trouble in Paradise for Secret Couple?_**

_Rumors have been flying around the last few months that the internet's boyfriend, Tom Hiddleston (38) has a secret love. While we're all sad to see him off the market by the looks of things there is already trouble in paradise. On Thursday things seemed to get heated in the park and we don't mean in the good way. Who is Tom's mysterious red-head and will she be sticking around?_ ’

 

The short article was accompanied by several rather grainy, and obviously amateur, photographs. But the people in them were unmistakable to Rosemary, or honestly anyone who knew either of the subjects; Tom in his predictable black on black running gear and Jules, hair loose and whipping round in the wind with her all too familiar teal woolen coat wrapped tightly around her. Rosemary stared at the photos in stunned disbelief. Jules and Tom? A couple? The idea was so utterly ridiculous it was bloody near hysterical. And she did it out a short laugh then, at the absurdity of it all. 

What wasn’t funny, however, was the jolt of emotion that followed quickly on the heels of her laughter. Raw and confusing, she felt the sting of tears and a deep seated dread that settled near into the marrow of her bones. For fucks sake, why was she crying? There wasn’t the slightest scrap of truth to this story and she knew it; there hardly ever was. The likelihood of Jules ever being involved in any way with Tom was so astronomically low that it didn’t even bear thinking. And Tom was many things, but sneaking around behind her back with her best friend was not something she believed him capable of. 

That thought pulled her up short. Sneaking behind her back? Where the fuck had that come from? She and Tom were friends, and honestly just barely that at this juncture, there wasn’t anything between them that warranted sneaking around. They weren’t a couple. He was her friend and he could see or not see whomever he wanted. She had no say in the matter. And it wasn’t like he was actually seeing Jules…though she did wonder just what had led to their meeting in the first place. They didn’t speak to each other as far as she knew. And as much as Jules disliked Tom, Rosemary was certain she wouldn’t purposely seek him out. But the stubborn streak on her friend was near a mile long and hardly rational.

Rosemary groaned and pushed her laptop beside her on the couch. God, she was being ridiculous; completely and utterly ridiculous. But that did little to silence the small voice in her head taunting her with memories of other tabloid articles and other photographs. Tom had never spoken of what had happened between him and his co-star but Rosemary hadn’t been blind. Something had happened between him and Natalie Billings, but how far it had gone she didn’t know. But it had happened. He hadn’t even been hers then and it had hurt like hell. 

_This is different_ , she told herself, rubbing her face with her hands in confused frustration. And it was completely different. This was Jules for god’s sake. Jules and Tom. _Nothing whatsoever happened and you bloody well know it,_ she told herself with a confidence she didn’t quite feel. _Then why do I feel so torn up?_  

Torn up. That was exactly how she felt. Torn up. She couldn’t think of another way to put it. There was nothing to fret over and here she was wanting to cry and scream. _Jealous,_ her mind hissed at her. _You’re jealous and it’s eating you alive._  

A frustrated laugh tore from her throat. God, she was jealous. Irrationally, ridiculously jealous. It didn’t make any sense. Absolutely none. Why should she be jealous of something that didn’t exist? _Because it could,_ her mind offered. Not with Jules. Never with Jules _. But with someone else._ The idea settled like a lead weight in her stomach. While Tom wasn’t seeing anyone as far as she knew that didn’t mean that would always be the case. At some point he wouldn’t be alone anymore. He would find someone that he could see himself leading a life with. Someone he’d want a family with. Someone that wasn’t her. _It shouldn’t matter_ , she told herself. _It doesn’t matter._ But it did. 

She hated it. Hated how confused and hurt it made her. When she had allowed Tom back into her life, Rosemary hadn’t let herself think what it meant. What she’d wanted it to mean. He had always been important to her, it hadn’t matter how long it had been since they had last spoken, she always seemed to welcome him back into her life whether she’d meant to or not. She loved him, hadn’t ever stopped if she was being completely honest, and there was little point in denying that now. But would admitting it do any good? Would it make any difference? She loved him but she wasn’t sure she could trust him with her heart. And if she couldn’t trust him with that then there was little point in any of it. 

Uncertain and deeply frustrated with herself, Rosemary closed the laptop lid firmly, as if that would make the whole mess simply disappear. _God, if only_. She rubbed the backs of her hands over her eyes, feeling the sharp burn of tears threatening once more. _Enough_ , she growled at herself. _Enough_. This had to stop. 

A steady, rhythmic knocking on her front door startled Rosemary back into the present. She muttered a curse under her breath and pushed herself up off the couch. Rosemary grimaced as she spared a quick glance at the mirror hanging near the door. Her eyes were definitely puffier than they should have been, an obvious sign that she had been crying or at least very close to it, but there was little to be done for it now. She took a deep breath and unbolted the door. 

“Tom?” The name stumbled from her lips in confusion. He stood in the hallway; hair blown haphazardly, cheeks ruddy with cold, eyes a deep and piercing blue. There was an almost tangible buzz of nervous energy rolling off of him in steady waves. 

A knot formed in the pit of her stomach as he took a deep breath and locked his eyes on her, determination coloring his features. “May I come in? We need to talk.”


	10. TEN

**CHAPTER TEN**

 

A sinking sense of dread churned in her stomach as she stood, staring at Tom as he jostled himself from foot to foot in the hallway. ‘ _We need to talk._ ’ The words echoed in her mind. Good things rarely followed such a declaration; that was something Rosemary knew with a sick certainty. After several minutes staring in stunned apprehension, Rosemary gathered herself enough to nod silently at Tom and stood aside to allow him to enter the flat. He silently slid past her and into the small entrance way and she, in turn, silently closed the door behind him, trying desperately to gather hold of her fraying nerves. 

Tom took several long paces around the living room before turning to face Rosemary, his breathing even though the tension was rolling off of him in waves. She couldn’t force herself to meet his gaze, though she could feel his penetrating her. Whatever he had come to tell her, and her gut told her that with the way he was acting it couldn’t be good, he seemed to be both hesitant and determined to do so. And, equally, she knew with a stunning clarity that she absolutely did not want to hear it. 

“Rosie.” She jerked her head up at the sound of her name on his lips. She knew she must look a sight; her eyes reddened, face drawn and anxious. God, what he must think of her. “Don’t…It’s not…” He paused, breathing deeply and ran a hand shakily through his hair. “Can we sit?”

She nodded mutely and settled herself on the edge of the couch, back straight and shoulders tense. Her eyes following him as he settled himself on the opposite end. He stretched his long legs out before him, rubbing his hands absently on the tops of his thighs. 

“First off,” he started again, clasping his hands together in his lap. “I wanted to apologize for earlier.” He must have caught the look of confusion that had spread across her face because he quickly raced to add, “For snapping at you like I did. That was completely and utterly uncalled for and horribly cruel of me,” he paused again, drawing a hand quickly through his hair. “It had absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with you.” 

Drawing a deep breath, Rosemary nodded. It took her several moments to gather her thoughts enough to answer. “You were a right arse, Tom.” Her tone was matter of fact and she carried on without meeting his eyes. “I get that you were quite obviously upset but that doesn’t give you the right to take that out on me.” She paused enough to raise her head so that she was looking him directly in the eyes as she spoke. “That being said, I shouldn’t have stormed off like I did either. That was incredibly childish and I’m sorry for it.” 

Tom shook his head at her in confusion. “You have every right to be angry with me, Rosie. Every bloody right. And to have left. Christ, my mother would have rightly boxed my ears had she heard me speaking to you like I did.” He paused, wringing his hands together in his lap. “That’s beside the point. I just…I wanted to say I’m sorry and I wanted to explain what happened.” 

“I know about the pictures, Tom,” Rosemary interjected. The look of fear and weariness that crossed his face struck her. She wanted to reach out and grasp his hands, offering whatever comfort she could. With a fortitude she hadn’t known she possessed, she curbed that impulse; she wasn’t completely sure how it would be received and rejection from him now, she feared, would very likely crush her.  “I didn’t go looking for them,” she added hastily. “They were on my browser’s home page and I…What happened, Tom? I mean…How? You guys don’t talk…At all…and now you’ve been photographed…” 

“It isn’t what it looks like,” Tom implored, cutting her off. Rosemary felt her heart sink at his words. Tom’s face paled at her expression and he plowed on, “I mean…I don’t even know how…We ran into each other purely by chance and we started talking and she…” His eyes were wide and pleading at her to understand what he couldn’t seem to articulate. 

Rosemary’s jaw clenched, “She saw fit to lay in on you.” Anger flushed her face. _Dammit Jules, why can’t you just leave well enough alone? You bloody promised!_  

He shook his head. “No…Well, yes she did. But it was nothing less than what I deserved. Rosie, I hurt you and badly. I did things I am very much ashamed of and that I know I cannot ever take back.” He smiled softly at her, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Jules is your friend, she cares about you. She has every right to frankly hate the sight of me,” he chuckled ruthlessly. “All she did was tell me what I needed to hear even if I didn’t want to hear it. I needed to be fully aware of just how badly I fucked up. Because I don’t want to do that again.”

“Tom…” Her tone was full of the uncertainty she was sure painted her face. 

He shook his head, holding up a hand to halt her words. “No, please. Let me say this before I go and lose what little nerve I have left.” Rosemary nodded silently and waited for him to continue. “I messed up with you, Rosie, and badly at that. It’s something I will always, always regret.” His blue eyes were locked on hers, intense and pleading silently for her understanding. “For whatever reason I have you back in my life and I still cannot fathom why. But I don’t want to risk losing you again. I love you and I don’t want to mess this up. After you left today I took a very long, hard look at what’s happened and in turn what I want to happen.” He paused, letting out a soft, ruthless chuckle. “My life is a mess at the best of times. So much of it is not honestly in my control and it’s taken me a very long time to come to terms with that. To find ways to work around it and try to be myself and keep the things that matter as safe as much as I possibly can. I’m not trying to complain, I know just how fortunate I am to be able to do something that I love and make a living from it. But it’s hard sometimes, to remember that. To accept it. I’ve made so many mistakes and I’ve tried to do my best and to learn from them. To make myself better because of them. I hurt you, Rosie, and I’ve kept doing so. I don’t want to. It’s the absolute last thing I want. But I keep doing it.” He paused again, looking down at his clasped hands. “So many times I’ve wondered if walking away for good would be the best thing to do, for both our sakes. If I left, I would stop constantly hurting you.  You could let go and maybe be at peace with what’s happened between us. But I can’t do it. I don’t want to. I don’t know what’s happening now, with us, but I know that I can’t just walk away. Not again.” 

She stared at him, not knowing what to say. What to think. “Tom, I …” 

He shook his head. Rosemary paused, looking at him in confusion and uncertainty. “I know it’s a lot I’ve just unloaded on you. And I’m sorry for doing so. I truly didn’t mean it.” His eyes widened as Rosemary stiffened. “No. No. No. That’s not what I’m saying. I meant what I said to you. Every word of it, but I didn’t mean to simply throw it at you like I did.” He smiled softly at her. “I do love you, Rosie. I’m absolute shit at it, but I do.” 

Rosemary returned his smile with a hesitant one of her own. She cleared her throat and tried to find the right words. She needed the right words. “Tom, you mean so much to me. You have to know that,” she began, reaching out and taking his hand in hers. She squeezed it gently, absently rubbing her thumb along its back. “You are so very dear to me. You always have been. But I don’t know if I’m ready for more than simply being your friend. I honesty can’t be sure if I ever will be.” She looked at him, her hazel eyes pleading with him to understand. To hear what she needed him to understand. “I don’t know what I want. Not now. But I know that I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you. But I need to know if you’re going to be able to accept that. Can you be okay with just being my friend?  Truly okay with it? If I’m never ready for anything but that?”

His expression was unreadable and Rosemary felt her heart clench painfully in her chest. She had known that he very well may not be okay with only that. He’d made his desires clear. He wanted her. Loved her.  She believed he meant it. For now. But what about in six months? Nine months? A year? Could she take that chance with him? Risk her heart again? She didn’t know. And that uncertainty might very well have cost her ever being able to know for sure.

After several long and agonizing minutes Tom spoke. “I understand that you’re not sure of me. And with our history I cannot blame you one bit. And I accept that you don’t know if you can trust me. If I’ll make all of these promises only to turn around and break them. I understand and I accept it.” He paused, offering Rosemary a soft smile and taking her hands in his, squeezing them gently. “And I can give you time to figure out what you want; whether it’s me or…not. I will be alright with whatever you decide.” He squeezed her hands again. “I told you that I can’t just walk away from this, from you, and I meant it.” He pushed himself to his feet and after a short debate with himself, leaned over and kissed her gently on the crown of her head. “Take all the time you need, Rosie. I’ll be here regardless of what you decide.” 

She heard his soft footfalls on the carpeted floor and the open and close of her front door. Rosemary let go a shuddering breath. The ball was soundly in her court and she hadn’t the first idea what to do. 

— 

The shop was quiet that afternoon; A few wandering patrons here and there, but for the most part nothing and no one. It eased Rosemary’s guilt at pulling Jules off the floor and secluding both herself and her friend in the office she would always think of as hers. The past week had been hectic for both locations and she, Jules, and Hanna had been running themselves near ragged. Being able to sit and relax seemed a wonderful luxury and Rosemary was loath to give it up. 

Jules had made them both coffees courtesy of the new coffee maker she’d recently acquired for the shop. It wasn’t overly fancy but produced a fair brew and that, in the end, was all that mattered. Coffee doctored to her liking, Rosemary had taken over the chair behind the desk, earning her a pointed look from Jules. She’d smiled sweetly and continued to drink her coffee. 

They hadn’t had a chance to properly catch up since their luncheon. They’d exchanged a handful of texts but hadn’t honestly had a chance to really sit and talk. And, she mused, there certainly was a very great deal to talk about. “So,” Rosemary started, looking at Jules from over her mug. 

Jules cocked an eyebrow. “So…I’m pretty confident that you didn’t overtake my office just for the coffee and pleasure of my company…”

Rosemary nodded and placed her mug onto the desk. “It used to be _my_ office,” She joked, crossing her arms at her chest. “But, no. Not particularly. But the coffee is quite good,” she added in afterthought. She fiddled with the handle of the coffee mug in front of her as she tried to form the questions in her head into something coherent. “Those pictures,” she began again, looking up at Jules.

They had mentioned the pictures in passing, a text from Jules sent the evening they’d been posted ‘ _I’m pretty sure you’ve seen those pictures by now. They’re ridiculous and completely off base. I didn’t seek him out, please don’t be too cross with me._ ’ She’d responded that she knew that and she wasn’t cross and the matter had been left at that. 

But there had been much more she’d wanted to talk about and to do so in text seemed inefficient and impersonal. She’d wanted to hear Jules’ side of the story, wanting to make sure for herself that what Tom had told her was the truth. That it had all been mere happenstance; that she hadn’t sought him out specifically. And this particular afternoon had been the first in which she could guarantee enough time for an actual conversation. Rosemary felt foolish, dragging everything up again, especially now that the dust was beginning to settle. But she needed to talk to her friend.

“Rose, honey…” 

“I know it’s all bullshit, Jules,” she cut in. God, she was making a right mess of this. “Honestly, I do. I know you and I know him. And neither of you are that callous. I’m not mad at you…I just…I’m trying to understand why it happened. Tom said he just ran into you in the park and things dissolved from there.” She looked at Jules in earnest, hoping that she understood what she was trying to say. 

“I didn’t go there hoping to run into him, Rose. I had lunch with Nick that day. We were close enough to the park that afterwards I wanted to enjoy the sun for a bit. I saw a cute dog and I couldn’t resist saying hello. Didn’t realize that said dog’s owner was…Anyway, we exchanged words, I told him something he honestly needed to hear and that was that. Had I known there were photographers about…” 

Rosemary nodded, “I know Jules. I’m sorry…I just…Things aren’t exactly settled between Tom and myself. We both have made some horrifically stupid decisions and we’re trying to work out where that leaves us. I know you care, and I’m glad of it. I just…I don’t want to feel like things are happening because he feels guilty.” She paused and shook her head. “No, wait that is not what I meant. I told you that I want to be able to fight my own battles and make my own choices and you unloading all of that onto Tom feels like you didn’t hear me or simply didn’t care what I wished.” Jules opened her mouth to protest. “I know you didn’t mean it like that. I honestly cannot say I’m surprised that things imploded the way they did between you two. It was a long time coming.”

“He was an unmitigated arse to you, Rose, and he needed to see that. I don’t like him and I doubt I ever really will, but if he’s going to be back in your life I wanted to make damn sure he knows what that means and that he’s not going to run off again and leave you floundering. I know you want to do this on your own, and you have every right to do so, but he needed to understand that you have people in your corner; people that witnessed the aftermath of his actions the last time. You care about him, Rose. And because of that sometimes I’m honestly afraid you hold back because you’re so scared he’ll bolt if he knew what you felt or what you thought.” 

Rosemary let out a sigh of frustration. “What I do or not do is on my own head, not on yours. I need you to understand that. You are the closest thing I have to a sister but I _need_ you to not meddle in things. If it’s going to fall to pieces, it will do so on its own. You don’t need to help it along.” She paused and took a deep breath, calming herself. “I didn’t come here to fight with you. Honestly, I didn’t. I just need to know you won’t do it again. Just let it be, Jules. Please.” 

Silence passed between them and Jules nodded. “I can’t guarantee I will always be able to hold my tongue when it comes to him, but I can promise to do my utmost best to respect your choices.” She smiled at Rosemary. “Are we okay?”

Rosemary nodded, “I think so. I want us to be.” She reached to pick up her mug once more, taking another sip of her coffee. It had cooled considerably but not enough to call it a waste. Cold coffee when it was not intended to be such was vile; almost as vile as a cold cup of tea. She shuddered at the thought. 

“You alright?” Jules asked with the rise of an eyebrow. 

Rosemary laughed and nodded. “Yes, sorry. My mind went wandering down a dark path…Cold tea…” She shuddered again and Jules burst out into a fit of giggles.

“My god, that is horrid. How could you even think such a thing?”

And with that she knew they would be alright. They soon finished their respective coffees and Jules grabbed both mugs and set to making more. Rosemary took her now steaming mug gratefully and cautiously took a sip. She placed the mug onto the desktop and brought her attention back to Jules. “So, how did Nick take the photos? I completely forgot to ask.” 

Jules looked bug-eyed for a second before laughing into her coffee. “Really fucking well, actually.” She paused, taking a sip. “So he says ‘So you’re seeing Tom Hiddleston behind my back, huh? Well good for you’ and just goes right back to reading his book. Bless the man. He didn’t even blink an eye.” She shook her head and rested the cup on her thigh, letting out a contented sigh. “That man is bloody ridiculous and I love him for it.” 

Rosemary snorted quietly into her own mug. It was funny, she had to admit. The way Nick took this in stride made her admire the man all the more. Jules and Nick were quite the pair; they’d been together for ages and seemed completely content in who and what they were. She envied that. Envied the way they trusted one another implicitly. She wanted that for herself, wanted it desperately. But having it simply didn’t seem likely. 

Without her biding Tom’s face flashed in her mind. If she was truly being honest with herself she could admit she wanted that with him. But wanting that didn’t mean it could happen. _But still_ , she thought as she took another sip of her coffee, _it’s a wonderful dream._


	11. ELEVEN

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

  

It was a fairly sunny afternoon and Rosemary was pleased that she’d had the forethought to throw a pair of sunglasses into her bag before she’d left that morning. They had certainly come in quite handy. The weather was warm for early May, she tied the sweater she’d thrown on that morning over her short sleeved blouse around her waist and allowed herself to bask in the warm sunshine. Beside her, Tom fiddled with Bobby’s lead as the spaniel barked and ran as far ahead of them as the lead would allow. She found herself at Tom as they companionably walked side by side. It had been a lovely afternoon so far. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt ever this content. 

They’d been meeting at the park near Tom’s almost every afternoon that week. Spending their time walking the grounds together while Bobby chased squirrels, birds, and the occasional child; talking quietly and simply enjoying each other’s company. Afterwards, they would frequent one of the many cafés lining the outside of the park for coffee or, if time and schedules permitted, a light lunch.    

Rosemary had been weary, at first, of the potential for cameras and unwanted intruders; the memory of those photographs and the mess they had unleashed was still fresh in her mind. Tom seeming to sense her hesitancy did what he could to dispel her uncertainty; though she knew the whole situation left him just as unnerved as she felt, if not more so. Chances of another run in would most likely be slim, he’d assured her. The photographs had obviously been fan shots and not professional, as long as they kept themselves to themselves, chances were they would be left alone. So they should just relax and enjoy themselves. She’d jokingly asked if Luke shared this philosophy and felt a twinge of unease at Tom’s hesitant shrug. Apparently not. 

It had taken a fair but of persuasion but eventually Rosemary was able to relax enough to enjoy going on walks in the park with Tom and Bobby and, true to his word, they’d been left more or less alone. Occasionally, a fan would recognize Tom and stop him for a quick chat or a picture. If they’d questioned Rosemary’s presence, they’d done so once she and Tom had been out of ear shot, for which she’s been grateful. But beyond that, there had been nothing untoward. She made it a rule to never to go online and check what, if anything, was being said about her or about them. As far as she was concerned the less she knew the better. 

“You okay for a coffee after?” Tom inquired, tilting his head towards hers as they started their second loop around the park. Ahead of them, Bobby gleefully chased a squirrel, barking his head off as it ran up a nearby tree. 

“Definitely,” Rosemary answered with a smile and nod of her head. “I’m not needed at either shop for the time being, so I’m all yours.”

The smile he offered her in return was near blinding and Rosemary fought to quell the rush of giddiness it brought. _He is your friend,_ she scolded. _That is all. That is what you wanted. Just keep your head._

For the most part she could ignore the quiet voice in her mind whispering that he was more than that. But on some days...Some days it took everything she had. She sighed, trying to clear her thoughts. Tom was a force of nature even at the best of times and, more often than not, she found herself powerless against him. _Damn the man. Damn him_.

The past few weeks had been wonderful, though, despite the rockiness at their start. It had taken her several days to pluck up enough courage to call him after he’d confessed. It wasn’t that she hadn’t wanted to speak with him just that she wasn’t sure what to say to him when she did. He’d said he would give her time, give her space and accept what she decided. But saying and doing were two very different things, especially where Tom was concerned. She hated the fact that she couldn’t bring herself to trust him at his word. To believe that he would be there, regardless of what she decided. So she delayed. But she couldn’t do so forever. _Nothing ventured,_ she’d finally told herself that third day; _nothing gained_. And she’d called. 

Conversation between them had been strained at first. Neither of them seemed to know what to say to the other or how to begin to bridge the gap that had formed between them. They stumbled over their words during that first call, both apologizing to the other, tripping over their words.  She had wished desperately the entire call that it could just be easier. That she would know just what to say to fix the bond between them. 

She asked him then, if they could be friends. If he was willing to simply try and see where might lead them. No promises, no pressure. She’d told him that she wanted him in her life but she couldn’t give him more. Not now and possibly not ever. If Tom had been disappointed in her decision, he’d hidden it well. He’d been warm and genuine in his interactions with her. She’d asked for his friendship and he’d given it without hesitation. And for the first time since this whole mess had begun, Rosemary felt confident that maybe, just maybe, this could work. 

And so far it was. There had been a few missteps as they both learned this new dance between them, she’d expected that. But things had slowly evened out and despite her sometimes traitorous thoughts, she’d felt confident that they would be able maintain this tentative bond of friendship. The afternoons they shared seemed to strengthen that for her. She could do this. They could do this. 

It had been wonderfully quiet and uneventful so far; if anyone recognized Tom they hadn’t made any effort to stop or disturb him. The park had been fairly busy that day; joggers, mothers with prams, and young children filled the paved pathways and the green spaces, leaving them with the heady notion of anonymity. Rosemary found herself enjoying the simplicity of just being with Tom. Of not allowing herself to overthink what any of it could possibly mean. She thoroughly enjoyed just being able to talk to him and get to know the man beside her again as if it were the first time. They rounded the far edge of the park, still talking quietly.   

Rosemary shivered slightly as a cool breeze rolled off the nearby lake. Without a word, she unwound her sweater and placed it over her shoulders.

She felt Tom’s hand come down on her covered shoulder. “You alright?”  

Rosemary nodded in assent, ignoring the shiver his touch sent through her. “Just a chill, nothing to be worried about.” Absently, she reached for his hand, pulling it from her shoulder and winding her fingers with his. She caught the barest glimmer of something cross his eyes before he relaxed, squeezing her hand with his. Warmth and comfort radiated through her as his thumb rubbed slow circles on the back of her hand.   

“So,” Tom started, talking a deep breath. “Coffee?” 

Rosemary nodded. Hand in hand, they headed slowly towards the park gate.

—

Rosemary watched idly as the steam gently rose from the top of her latte. The late afternoon was still warm but a noticeable chill was creeping into the air. It would no doubt be a cool evening. They had settled at one of the tables littered along the outside of the café not far from the park’s northern entrance. Bobby, for once, lay quiet at Tom’s feet, his head resting on his forepaws, eyes closed. The afternoon in the park had clearly worn the spaniel out. “So,” she asked, drumming her fingers against the table top, “what’s new in the life of the esteemed Tom Hiddleston?” 

Tom chuckled into his double espresso taking a quick sip before placing the cup back onto the table. “Nothing too much.” He smiled and grabbed for a scone from the plate sitting between them. He broke off a piece and popped it into his mouth. He chewed it quickly and swallowed before answering. “Still in negotiations for the play but it’s looking promising. Hopefully we’ll get rehearsals started in the next few months. The end of July or start of August if we get the female lead cast soon.” 

Rosemary smiled at him, “That’s fantastic. I can’t wait to see what comes of it.”

He smiled in return. “I can’t either.” He sighed and settled back into his chair. “And before that I have a few weeks before I have to gear up for the promo tour for _The School of Mist_.”

She tried to ignore the slight pang of fear that flooded through her at the idea of him leaving. It was ridiculous and she knew it. This was part of his job and there was absolute no reason to feel upset. _But you’ve just got him back!_ She shook that thought away. He wasn’t hers though, not really. _And that was you’re choice_. 

“You excited? About the tour, I mean.” she asked, her voice slightly higher in octave than was completely convincing as nonchalant. But there was nothing for it now. She forced a smile, hoping he wouldn’t notice.     

Tom’s face scrunched slightly as he took another sip of his espresso. “Yes and no.” He placed the cup back down and raised his eyes to Rosemary’s. “I mean, I’m excited to see the response to the film. To be able to talk about making it and see my costars again…But living out of a suitcase for weeks at a time.” He paused, chuckling softly, “Not exactly something I’m looking forward to.”

“Understandable,” she answered, picking her own cup up. “But it’s only for a few weeks, right?” She brought the cup to her lips, hoping to hide her uncertainty behind it. 

“Yeah,” Tom nodded, his hand reaching towards her before simply resting on the table top. “Should be about three weeks over all.” Silence fell between them. And after several minutes Tom cleared his throat. “So how about you? What’s being going on with you?” 

“Besides hanging out with this obnoxious actor,” she paused sticking out her tongue at him, hoping to diffuse the tension that had been building steadily between them. He shot her a mock glare in response causing her to laugh out loud. “In all seriousness, not much. But you know that. The shops are doing well, touch wood, and I’m not constantly panicking over them anymore.” She paused for effect before continuing. “More like every other day now.”

His blue eyes shone with amusement and Rosemary felt herself relax once again. “Only every other day now?” he teased. “My, my, my such restraint.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Watch it, Hiddleston.” 

He threw his head back and let out an exuberant laugh before sobering enough to volley back, “Make me, Mathews.” 

“So tempting,” she replied, grabbing the last scone from the plate. She raised an eyebrow at him, “You want?” Tom shook his head. Grinning, Rosemary broke off a piece and popped it into her mouth. “God, these are divine.” 

“I know.” He paused briefly before reaching across the table and grabbing the remaining bit of scone from her hand, offering her an impish grin, and devouring it in one bite. 

“Hey!” She snapped, her eyes narrowing. “That’s mine!” 

Tom shook his head, “No, it _was_ yours. I liberated it off you.” He shot her a beatific smile and laughed again when she rolled her eyes. 

“If you wanted it, why didn’t you just say so?” she queried, the edge in her tone was belied by a smile of her own. He simply shrugged at her. “You are such a jerk.” 

“And yet, you adore me.”

“It’s something I question each and every day.”

They bickered playfully back and forth through an additional two coffees each before reality reared its head in the form of Tom’s ringing phone. He shot her an apologetic look before pulling the phone from his pocket and sliding the screen to answer. “Yes, sister mine?” 

She watched his expression as he chatted with his sister; which one she wasn’t sure as he hadn’t actually spoken her name. He radiated warmth and quiet affection as he rambled on and she couldn’t stop herself falling for him just a little more. It wasn’t that she didn’t know he was capable of it; she’d seen it in him in all the little things he did for the people he cared for, but seeing it in full force set something burning inside of her. He was a good man and she couldn’t help thinking he would make someone very happy one of these days. She pushed down the quiet but steady thought that she wanted nothing more than for it to be her. _He is your friend_. _Only your friend. Don’t cross that line if you’re not sure you can follow through_.

When the call ended several minutes later, she had managed to school her expression into one she hoped was of neutral patience. Just because she couldn’t seem to keep her mind made didn’t mean she needed to drag him into her indecision. She had given him her choice, even attempting to take it back now, when she was so uncertain herself, would be the height of cruelty. And no matter what, she could not do that to him. 

“Sorry about that,” he apologized, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “My sister, Emma, and her husband are heading out of town this weekend and I’m supposed to be pet sitting their puppy. She was just making sure I knew when to swing by to grab the little fur ball.” 

A grin broke out on Rosemary’s face at the thought. “I bet Bobby will be out of his mind with excitement having a little buddy to play with.” 

Tom smiled brightly, “Of that I’ve no doubt.” 

Rosemary grabbed her cup and drained the last remaining remnants of her latte. “So,” she started, running her finger along the rim of her now empty cup. “I’m guessing you’re going to need to get that one back home eventually.” She gently nudged a dozing Bobby with her foot. The spaniel grunted softly before rolling over and looking up at his master expectantly with sleepy eyes. 

Letting out a deep sigh, Tom nodded. “Unfortunately. Though I hope you’re not trying to hurry me along…” 

She sighed dramatically, raising the back of her hand to her forehead and exclaimed, “Alas! You’ve caught onto my dastardly plan! Whatever shall I do?” 

Tom cocked his head to the side as if in thought and deadpanned, “Perhaps not quit your day job, for one.” He laughed, a rich hearty one, at the look of indignation that crossed her features. 

“Well I never!” she retorted before collapsing into a fit of giggles. God, it felt wonderful to just sit and laugh with him. She hadn’t realized just how badly she’d missed it. Bobby sat up and barked excitedly at the commotion they were causing. At that quite a few of the patrons sitting nearby shot them disapproving looks. Once she’d sobered enough to speak without choking on her laughter, Rosemary looked at Tom and stated with mock seriousness, “Well that’s us told.”

“Isn’t it just?” Tom answered, wheezing with laughter. He rested his hands on the table top and took several deep breaths to calm himself enough to speak. “So would you mind walking Bobby and I home?”

Rosemary smiled brightly and extended her hand towards him, “It would be my honor.”

—

 “You sure you don’t want more?” Jules inquired, tilting the half empty wine bottle towards Rosemary.

“Absolutely not,” Rosemary laughed, shaking her head. “Two glasses is my absolute limit. Not in the market for a headache tomorrow.” 

Jules shrugged and poured herself another glass. “Fair enough.” She raised the glass to her lips and took a hearty sip. “So movie?” They had recently restarted their weekly ‘date’ nights, both missing the ability to simply sit, talk, and laugh about the stresses and happenings of the week together. And the ability to just decompress in general with no pressure or judgement. They’d opened the wine nearly an hour before and the take-away order was on its way; curry this time instead of their typical Chinese fare. All that was left now was to pick the evening’s entertainment.

Rosemary nodded, leaning herself against the back of the couch. She was enjoying the pleasant buzz thrumming through her; the world around her just bordering on fuzzy. “What are you feeling up to?”

“Hmm.” Jules placed her glass onto the coffee table and pushed herself to her feet, walking towards Rosemary’s movie collection. “Decisions, decisions.” She tapped her index finger idly against her jaw, head cocked to the side as she perused. “Rom Com?” 

“No,” Rosemary murmured, “Far too close to home.” 

Jules cocked an eyebrow at her friend, “Care to elaborate on that one, Rose?” 

“At this point, no, not really.” Because talking about Tom would go down much like a lead balloon and after how well the day had gone, Rosemary most assuredly did not want that. 

“Yeah, no,” Jules quipped, movies apparently forgotten. She dropped herself back on to the couch beside Rosemary, leaning her elbows on her knees. “Spill.” After several moments of hesitancy on her friend’s part, Jules let out an indignant huff. “I know it has to do with Tom, I wasn’t born yesterday.” She shot Rosemary a knowing look. “So spill. Is he pushing for more? Because…”

Rosemary narrowed her eyes. “No,” she bit with authority, cutting Jules off mid word. She took deep breath and started again. “He’s been great, actually. Better than great. But I…” Rosemary paused again, looking down at her hands which rested in her lap. “I’m just not sure if this is what _I_ want anymore.” 

“Oh Rose…” Jules eyes widened in concern. “Darling, are you really sure that is the best idea?” 

She shook her head, whispering “No.” She could feel the tears burning in her eyes. “Jules, I honestly don’t know. I thought I did. Having him in my life as a friend was better than not having him at all. But now…I just don’t know.” She dropped her head into her hands, taking several deep breaths in an effort to compose herself. “I want him. You have no idea how badly. But I can’t just throw caution  to the wind and dive into this, not when I don’t know for sure if it’s really, truly what I want. I can’t do that to him or to me.” She raised her head up and smiled sadly at Jules. “I’ve been on the receiving end of that…And I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“Even so,” Jules started, clasping her hands together on her thighs. “Are you really considering letting him in again? Really in again?”

Rosemary shrugged, “Maybe…I don’t know. Not yet. But I know that I need to think about this, really think about it before I decide either way. And I know you don’t trust him and I know that isn’t likely to change.” Her brows rose at Jules’ incredulous look. “But trust me. Trust that I’m not going to just jump into this without making absolutely sure that it is what I want.”  

Jules reached out and took one of Rosemary’s hands in her own, squeezing it in silent reassurance. “I think you’re playing with fire, Rose. But you’re going to do what you’re going to do. Just be sure. Really, really sure.”

“I will,” she answered, squeezing Jules’ hand in return. “So, how about that movie?”

Both women dissolved into giggles, relieved at the break in tension. “Fine, fine. So you vetoed Rom Com’s, what about drama?” She snorted at Rosemary’s less than enthused reaction. “Fine then, horror?” 

“Fine,” Rosemary groaned good-naturedly. A knock at the door pulled both women’s attention. Rosemary pushed herself up from the couch. “I’ll get the food, you pick the film.”

“Righto.” 

Food paid for and collected, Rosemary set the bag onto the coffee table and wandered into the kitchen for plates and utensils. Settling once more onto the couch, she divided their food containers. Jules was still staring at the movie collection. “Come on Stevens, how hard can it be to make a bloody choice?”

“You’re one to talk, Mathews,” Jules quipped back. “You’re not exactly Ms. Decisive either, are you?” 

“Ha, bloody ha! Just pick a film before the food gets cold.” She fizzled with laughter when Jules threw a rude gesture at her in response.


	12. TWELVE

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

 

Rosemary leaned heavily on Tom’s shoulder as she fought to regain her breath. Her hair, which at the start of the morning had been pulled into a neat, high ponytail now clung desperately to her sweat covered neck. Her legs shook with the effort of keeping herself upright. God, she hadn’t done that in years.  _ And now I definitely remember why.  _ “I can’t believe I actually let you talk me into doing that!”

Tom merely laughed in response, his own breathing labored. He stood, hands resting on his hips and flashed a smile. “You’re the one who wanted to see what my morning run was like.” 

She shot him a cool glare. “Yeah, well you could have warned me.”

He laughed again. “Where’s the fun in that, Rosie?”

Rosemary responded by sticking her tongue out at him while smiling. 

“Very mature,” he responded with a roll of his eyes. They looked at each other and both burst into breathless laughter. Tom ran a hand through his sweaty hair as they calmed. “God, we must make a sight.” 

Rosemary nodded and turned away from him, not trusting herself to speak or look at him without bursting into laughter again. She took several deep breaths and when she was certain she was back under control she turned towards Tom smiling. “So as wonderful as this torture session has been, I think it’s high time I got my sweaty arse home.” She paused and sniffed at her arm before pulling a face. “You may want to keep my fellow commuters in your thoughts because I certainly wouldn’t want to be caught in an overcrowded carriage with me.”

Tom looked at her, an odd expression on his face that she couldn’t quite place. He hesitated for a moment before offering, “Why don’t you just shower at mine?” She started at his words and she watched as his eyes widened almost comically. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean like that.” He broke off shaking his head and offered her a tentative smile, before taking a deep breath and starting again. “My house has multiple bathrooms and I’m sure Emma’s left something that will fit you. You don’t have to offend your fellow men and women if you don’t want to.” He shrugged nonchalantly as he finished, eyes flicking uncertainly towards hers. 

“I…” Her voice trailed off hesitantly. It was sound suggestion and honestly made more sense than attempting to catch the tube as a sweaty mess. But still the idea made her unspeakably nervous, though she knew there was nothing untoward in his intent. They were friends after all.  _ Just friends _ , her mind scolded firmly,  _ that is what you told him you wanted _ . And this was something that one offered for a friend; there was no sense in trying to read anything more into it.  He had promised to respect her decision and so far he had kept to his word. Sometimes things had to be taken on trust. She took a deep breath, smiled at him reassuringly and nodded. “Okay, Tom,” her voice was tentative but steady. “Sounds like plan.”

The walk back to his was spent mostly in silence, much as it had been earlier that morning. While Rosemary was able to be up at all hours and function like a basic human being, she did so much better with numerous cups of coffee in her system. And that was something she had forgone that morning in an attempt to actually arrive at Tom’s relatively on time. She had overslept and in doing so had to rush out of the door almost as soon as she’d thrown on running clothes; a fitted tank and leggings.  _ God _ , she thought as they moved through the much busier sidewalks towards Tom’s door,  _ I would literally kill for caffeine right now _ . 

“You quite alright there?” Tom’s voice cut through the mental fog that had surrounded her. She blinked rapidly as he pushed open the front door. She hadn’t even realized that they’d arrived, much less that he’d had time to open both gate and door without her noticing. 

She laughed despite herself. “I’m completely fine,” she reassured him.  “I’m just not quite sure what I need more, caffeine or a shower.”

At this Tom first let out an undignified snort before cracking into a short burst of laughter. “Sorry. Sorry,” He wheezed holding his hand out. “I don’t know why that’s so funny.”

Rosemary shook her head, fizzing with laughter of her own. “I don’t know either.” 

“Come on, inside with you,” Tom ordered, still laughing. “We’ll get you showered and caffeinated.” 

“I’m holding you to that, my good man.” She laughed as she made her way past Tom and into the foyer. She heard Tom follow behind her and bolt the door. 

“Alright, m’lady.” He smiled at her and bowed theatrically. “I will go in search of clothing for you.” He gestured down the open hallway. “Kitchen is down there to the left. Coffee is in the cabinet by the sink, press is on the counter. There should be clean mugs in the cabinet to the left of the refrigerator. Feel free to make yourself at home.” With that he dashed up the staircase to the right and disappeared into the house’s second story. 

Smiling and shaking her head, Rosemary made her way down towards the kitchen. She puttered her way through brewing her much needed coffee and very nearly snickered out loud when she opened the cabinet where Tom stored his varying array of mugs. Staring her dead in the face was an obviously handmade mug bearing the phrase ‘Keep calm and kneel to Loki’. It must have been a fan gift and, one the obvious amused him enough to keep and use. Without a second thought, she grabbed the mug and flitted back towards the counter and the steaming press.

She heard his footfalls in the hallway as she finished doctoring her coffee; far too much sugar and a dash of cream. “So Em left a pair of joggers and I have a t-shirt that should work for you.” She turned towards the doorway where Tom stood, holding out aforementioned clothing. 

His hair was damp, she noted without a conscious desire to do so.  _ He showered _ , she realized.  _ Which considering how quickly he was gone and back is quite the feat.  _

With a smile, Rosemary held up her mug. “I know you love the character, I’ve seen the way you ramble in interviews, but this?”

Tom laughed, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “I got it from a fan several years ago.” He paused, rolling his eyes up towards the ceiling as he thought, “God, right before  _ The Dark World _ premiered, I think. Anyway, it doesn’t really matter. I thought it was a riot and kept it.”

Rosemary nodded, “I figured as much. It’s amusing.” She reached for the clothing in his hand, taking it and placing it gently on the counter. “Thanks again. For the coffee for letting me use your shower.”

“It’s no problem. I am simply thinking of my fellow men and women.” He smirked at her then walked towards the cabinet and grabbing a mug of his own. He sidled past her and began doctoring his own cup. 

“Ha, fucking ha.” She took another sip of her coffee before taking a few steps to close the gap between them. “Some host you are,” she confided, reaching out and rubbing her hand through his clean hair. “Showering before your guest. So rude.” 

Tom turned what she thought was a rather lovely shade of crimson and quickly ducked out from under her hand. He shrugged at her and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. I couldn’t stand myself for a moment longer and I knew you’d be more than occupied with your caffeine addiction.”

“You’re one to talk, Hiddleston. Between the amount of coffee and tea I’ve seen you down in single day you have exactly no room to speak on mine.”

“So you admit you have a problem then?” His eyes crinkled as he laughed, a trait she could not help but find adorable. 

“Never.” She took another long sip of her coffee, willing the caffeine to hasten its course through her system. “Caffeine and I have a wonderful, loving relationship. How dare you judge us!” 

Tom laughed again, cradling his own mug in his hands. “God forbid I come between such a happy couple.”

She narrowed her eyes and nodded. “And don’t you forget it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He sobered and shot her a knowing look. “For someone who complained of being in desperate need of a shower, you sure are taking your time with that coffee.”

“You can’t rush these things, Thomas. You’d think you’d know by now there are some things in life that are meant to be savored. And good coffee is definitely one of those things. So hush.” 

He merely raised an eyebrow in response and shook his head, raising his own mug to his lips once more. The pair drank their respective coffees in relative silence and after several minutes Tom asked “Have you finished your moment yet?” 

She rolled her eyes and walked wordlessly to the sink and rinsed her mug. Turning back to face him, she placed a hand on her hip and quipped, “Now I’m done.”

Tom shook his head and setting his own mug on the counter by the sink, gestured for Rosemary to follow him. She grabbed her borrowed clothing and darted after him. He led her upstairs and towards a door on the right, pushing it open and allowing her to walk past him. “There should be plenty of towels in the bathroom and enough shampoo and body wash to tide you over. I’ll be downstairs. Shout if you need anything.”

She indicated she would and as he padded from the room she set about getting herself organized. The bathroom was far nicer than anything Rosemary had been used to, bar one or two rather nice hotel stays during holidays in years past. The shower was an open design with light grey marble tiling. A rain shower head hung from its ceiling and along its far wall hung the messaging shower head and various knobs. There was even a small bench like ledge along the side of the enclosure. As along it were scattered an array of body washes and shampoos. His sister’s, she hoped but cut that line of thinking before it carried her away. 

The vanity was a similar colored marble to the shower walls, floating seamlessly over the dark grey tiled floor, with a porcelain white sink bowl in its center. The mirror behind it was oval and bookended by two frosted glass covered sconce lights. Towels sat neatly folded in an open fronted cabinet to the left side of the doorway within easy reach of the shower. 

“Well damn,” she muttered to herself. She set her borrowed clothing on the closed lid of the toilet. It took her a few moments to catch onto the workings of the shower heads but soon the bathroom filled with steam. She quickly stripped, climbed inside, and lost herself in the sheer joy of a hot shower with fantastic water pressure. 

Twenty minutes later and once again blissfully clean, she gathered her sweaty running clothes and used towels and headed back downstairs. She deposited the towels in front of the laundry room and went in search of Tom. He was settled in the living room, Bobby at his feet. The spaniel perked up at the sound of her feet on the bare floor of the hallway. He hadn’t joined them on their run that morning and she’d wondered quite where he had gotten off to. Bobby leapt to his feet and bounced happily before her, barking.   

“Well hello there, handsome,” she gushed, lowering herself to the floor and scratching behind his ears. “I missed you this morning. Did your mean old daddy tell you that you couldn’t come out and play with us?” Bobby barked excitedly at this and licked at her face. 

She heard Tom groan in response. “I see how it is now, you only want me for my dog.”

Rosemary laughed out loud at that. “I mean, can you blame me? He really is the most handsome little guy.” She gave the spaniel one last head scratch before pushing herself to her feet once more. Her eyes locked on Tom’s. “But don’t worry, you’re not so bad yourself.”

“Gee, thanks so much,” he deadpanned. “That makes it all better.” 

She laughed. “It does, doesn’t it?” He grumbled in response, his exact words lost in her responding laughter. “Thanks again, Tom. For the shower and the clothes.” She glanced at her watch; it was ten minutes until nine.  _ Damn _ . “I hate to run like this, but I did promise Hanna I would help cover part of the late morning shift.”

Tom’s eyes clouded momentarily and he asked, “We’re still on for lunch today?” 

“Of course,” She answered without pause. “You said you wanted to surprise me and I’m definitely not missing that.” 

With her answer, they cleared and he smiled brightly at her. “Fantastic. I’ll pick you up outside of the shop at one?”

Rosemary nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

She then offered her goodbyes and after accepting a reusable bag for her running clothes, headed out the door and towards the nearest Underground station. She glanced at her watch as she settled into a open seat in the train and guessed that if she hurried she’d have enough time to swing by her flat, change into something more work appropriate, and make it to the shop at no later than half eleven. Hopefully Hanna wouldn’t actually kill her, she really was looking forward to having lunch with Tom. 

As the train sped down the line she couldn’t help wondering just what Tom had planned. He’d seemed so excited the other day when he first mentioned wanting to treat her to lunch; talking a mile a minute and smiling like a fiend. Whatever it was, he was clearly looking forward to taking her. And if his enthusiasm was anything to go by, the man is such an overexcited puppy at times, she could hardly wait to see what he had in store. 

—

Rosemary stared at the building before them in a surprised and stunned silence. Of all the damned places Tom could have chosen for them in the entire bleeding city he had go and to choose  _ this  _ restaurant.  _ Damn him. Damn him straight to hell _ . She dismissed the uncharitable thought away. How could he have possibly known her history with this place? Vaguely, she felt Tom’s hand on her arm. 

“Rosie?” he whispered, gently shaking her to catch her attention. “Rosie, are you alright?”

She grimaced and forced a small smile to her face. “Yeah, sorry. I just…What made you pick this place?”

His brows narrowed in confusion. “I had lunch here with Emma a week or so ago and had a wonderful time. The food here is utterly amazing, it’s family run and the servers are fantastic. I loved it and I thought you would as well….But if I was mistaken we can always go somewhere else…”

She waved her hand, dismissing his suggestion. “No, no. It’s fine. I’ve been here before and the food is lovely…It’s just been a while.” She tried to keep her tone light and airy but the expression that crossed Tom’s face told her she had failed. Utterly. 

“As I said, Rosie, we don’t have to eat here…” He began again, turning to head back towards the direction from which they’d come. 

“Tom,” she started, her tone sharper than she’d intended it to be, cutting him off. “I said its fine. Let’s just go in. I’m starving.” She reached out and took Tom’s arm in her hand, leading him towards the restaurant door. He allowed himself to be pulled along willingly enough but she could see the glint of annoyed frustration in his eyes. He was letting her have her way but she knew the discussion was far from over. 

She grimaced as a short, brunette waitress, Darcy, if memory served her right, greeted them as they made their way inside. A spark of recognition ignited in the woman’s eyes. “Well hello, Rosemary! It’s been quite a long time,” she greeted, smiling widely. “We were beginning to think you and Adam and abandoned us for greener pastures. I thought for sure the next time we saw you it would be with a stunner on your finger.” She looked pointedly at Tom who was clearly not the man she’d expected Rosemary to arrive with.

Rosemary fought to keep herself from reacting to the mention of his name and the implication Darcy had made. It had been nearly a year since he’d left and they had ended, but, at times, especially like this it still hurt. She plastered a smile on her face and responded, “It’s nice to see you too, Darcy.” She forced what she hoped was a convincing laugh. “And it has been awhile. Adam,” she mentally congratulated herself for not stumbling on the name, “relocated to America about a year back. Work you see.”  

Darcy smiled politely, seeming to catch onto her social faux pax, and gestured both Tom and Rosemary towards an empty table. She handed them menus and left them to themselves. 

She could read the curiosity painted on his features and knew that this was not something she could wave off with a laugh. She’d always known that at some point they would inevitably discuss their recent pasts; it was what friends did after all. But discussing this, _him_ , with Tom was never going to be easy or pleasant. How did you talk about the man you could have easily married to the one whom you loved desperately but weren’t sure you could trust again? _Rock and a hard place_ _indeed_ , she reasoned. But she had always known that she _would_ have to talk about it. Especially if she was truly considering trying with him, letting him truly into her heart again. This was important, a very big part of who she had become, and she couldn’t hide that from Tom. Not if she wanted them to have the chance to go farther. But knowing that didn’t make the task any easier. So she had delayed. And delayed. But now here she was and here they were and she couldn’t delay any longer.

“Do you want to talk about it? About him?” Tom’s voice was low, understanding. But she could hear the hint of his need to know in it. His desire to try to understand. Damn the man and his insufferable curiosity.

Rosemary cut her eyes to his. “Not particularly, no,” she answered, honestly. She took a steadying breath and offered him a slight smile. “But I think I need to, regardless.”

Tom reached out and gently took her hand in his. “Only if you want to,” he reassured her. “Don’t feel like you have to, not for me. You don’t owe me anything more than what you are willing to give. And I will never ask you for more than that.”

“No,” she started, shaking her head. “No, I think I need to talk about this.” She paused, her hands crumpling and then smoothing the napkin she’d taken from the table. Becoming aware of the gesture, she quickly tossed the napkin back onto the table. She took a deep breath before allowing herself to continue. “I met Adam at the market of all places. He was trying to figure out what tomato sauce he needed for a recipe of his grandmothers’. He looked so helpless and I couldn’t not try and help him.” She smiled fondly at the memory. “We got to talking and never really stopped.” She shrugged, her eyes raising hesitantly towards Toms’. 

He nodded but didn’t speak. She could feel the tension rolling off of him in waves. It shouldn’t have surprised her. Hell, had he been the one discussing his previous relationships she’d be just as tense. If not more so.

“He meant a lot to you then?” 

It was such an innocuous question that coming from anyone else she wouldn’t have thought twice about answering. But from Tom it felt different, loaded almost, so she hesitated, watching the emotions playing across his face. After several moments she nodded slowly, there was no sense in denying it. “He did.” She paused again, reached for the pitcher of water that had been left at the table, and poured herself glass, drinking from it deeply. 

Tom rested his hand on top of hers and squeezed it gently. “It’s alright, Rosie. Take as much time as you need.” 

She smiled softly at him and nodded. They sat in silence for several moments as Rosemary worked to organize her thoughts. It had been hard enough talking to Adam about Tom; opening that wound again. But she had done it because she had needed to; because if they were going to have any chance of working, Adam needed to know and to have the chance to understand where she was coming from. It had been a difficult night and she had cried far more than she had in years, but she gotten it all out. All the while, Adam had sat listening and quiet, much as Tom was doing now. When she had finished, Adam had taken her hand, kissed it gently and told her that he understood her hesitation better now. And he told her that she was far stronger than she gave herself credit for. Things hadn’t been easy but they were able to talk about their concerns and later what they hoped for the future. What they both wanted from it. And for the first time since her world had fallen apart, Rosemary felt she had found someone she could build a life with.  

After several minutes, Darcy returned to the table, pad in hand and took their orders. Out of habit, Rosemary had ordered what she had always ordered; filet steak with field mushrooms and peppercorn sauce and chunky chips. Filet steak had always been a favorite of hers and something that no matter how she tried, she simply could not cook herself. Adam had always teased her when she ordered, daring her to try something new. She never did. 

She hadn’t listened to Tom as he ordered his main, had only just barely heard the soft murmur of his voice as he spoke. When Darcy left, she felt his eyes return to her. He cleared his throat and once again reached out to her, taking her hand. “How long were you together?” His tone was light but she could sense the hesitance in his question. But his eyes were willing her to go on, his smile small but warm. 

“We were together a year and a half,” she whispered, trying in vain to return his smile. “He worked,  _ works  _ in advertising.” She grimaced slightly at her slip of the tongue but quickly carried on.” He was just starting out at a small but thriving firm when we met. He was always full of ideas; man couldn’t sit still to save his life.” She laughed at that. “There were many an evening I’d find him sketching out an idea or pacing around, trying to talk it out, mumbling to himself. It was maddening more often than not, but I wouldn’t have changed it or him for the world.” She paused, her face lighting at the memory. “We just…” she fumbled for a word that would encompass what she was trying to say, “clicked, for lack of a better term. Mum adored him and Dad warmed to him quicker than most blokes I’d brought home.”

Rosemary heard rather and saw his intake of breath at her statement and felt herself cringe in response. God, why had she said that?  _ Stupid. Stupid. Stupid _ . The napkin was once again in her hands, wrinkled almost beyond recognition. 

She heard Tom clear his throat. “So things were quite serious then?”

Her eyes shot up to his and she nodded quietly before raising her eyes to his once more. She could clearly see the hint of  _ something _ in his eyes but saw the effort he was imploring to keep it at bay. God, she wanted to kick herself. And hard. “Yes. We…We had talked about finding a place together, had even gotten to the point of ringing an estate agent.” Rosemary stopped, her throat tight with emotion. She had been so excited,  _ they  _ had been so excited. The idea of living with Adam, of starting a life with him, had felt so very right to her. They’d found a place, a lovely semi not too far outside the city proper, that they’d fallen in love with. They had been getting ready to put in an offer when the call came. 

“What happened?” Tom prodded; she could see his hands were fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “If things were that serious…” 

“He got a call from his office. There was a job opening, a fantastic opportunity honestly, at their American parent company. They wanted Adam. How could he have possibly turned that down?” 

Neither she nor Adam had really talked about what such a move would mean other than its obvious benefit to his career. And in that fact she had been completely thrilled for him. He was talented, driven, and finally he was getting the recognition he deserved. How could she not be happy for him?

But the idea of him leaving scared her far more than she allowed herself to think on. She couldn’t go, not with the shop’s expansion was so close to fruition. Things were finally falling into place for her here and leaving now was unthinkable. But for him…Maybe. Maybe not. She honestly didn’t know. 

She had seen the question lingering in Adam’s eyes though. He wanted to take the job and wanted her with him. And because of that she lived in constant fear of his asking it of her and of her own response. She couldn’t ask him to stay, to give up such a chance. She would never dream of it. But she was just as sure that she couldn’t go, even if he’d asked her. The question never came though. 

The weeks ticked by and finally the time had come where a decision had to be made. Rosemary had known the moment she entered his flat what he had chosen. He was going. Of course he was, he would be a fool not to. They had looked at one another and without having to speak the words aloud they had known that this would be goodbye. They had kissed and cried and two weeks later Adam had gotten on a plane and was gone. 

“No,” he responded, shaking his head. “No, of course not.” She watched as Tom’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “But what about going with him? To America?” He in turn watched her face as he spoke. “I mean, why didn’t you?”

She swallowed thickly and shrugged. “He didn’t ask…I didn’t push. He had to go and with the shop, with everything I’ve been trying to build here, how could I go?” 

Tom nodded wordlessly. He pushed his slipping glasses farther up his nose and look a slow sip of his own water. 

“It hurt,” Rosemary continued, “but sometimes things don’t work out, no matter how badly you want them to. I could have gone with him or insisted he stay but in the end we both would have been miserable. And I didn’t want that. I don’t believe he did either.” She shrugged helplessly. “But it ended. It hurt. God, it hurt but I think…No, I believe that it was ultimately for the best. In the end.” She choked out the last phrase, hating herself for letting the emotion get the better of her.

“Oh, Rosie,” Tom whispered. She could see the array of emotions flitting across his face. Hurt. Concern. Jealousy. Admiration. They were slight, he could school his face with the best of them, but they were there. “I’m so sorry. For dragging this all up. For causing you pain. The absolute last thing I wanted to do was hurt you.”

This time she reached across the table for his hand. He gave it without comment and she squeezed it in thanks and in affection. “I know that, Tom. And I’m alright. It’s alright.” Rosemary smiled at him warmly, though she could feel the tears still stinging in her eyes. “I knew I would have to talk about it, with you, at some point. I just wasn’t sure how or when to bring it up. This,” she waved vaguely around, “was just the shove I needed to do so.” 

He squeezed her hand back. “I’m still sorry for it. The unintentional hurt I know I caused.” He held his hand up to halt the protest on her lips. “But thank you for trusting me enough to open up to me.”

Rosemary smiled softly at him. He was uncertain but he was trying. For her. She didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. The time was coming soon when she knew she would have to make her choice; give in to what was still between them or walk away. 


	13. THIRTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was initially a MUCH longer chapter, but after completing it, realizing that I had left off a crucial event from the end, and adding said event I realized it was much too long for one chapter, and thus it became two.

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

“So what you’re telling me, Rose, is that instead of our weekly girl’s night, you are opting to have him over instead?” Jules voice dripped with barely contained sarcasm.

Rosemary felt herself flush with guilt. This was horribly last minute and she did feel terrible leaving Jules in the lurch, but she desperately, and admittedly selfishly, wanted to spend what time she could with Tom before he was gone.  _And,_  she thought uncharitably, _it’s not like she hasn’t ditched you for Nick in the past and at the absolute last minute_. She rolled her eyes and rested her head against her upturned palm. This is not what I wanted today. Rosemary groaned internally and turned her attention back to her phone, resting beside her on the couch its speaker function on. She loved Jules. Loved her dearly. She was one of her fondest friends but dear god there were times… _Lord, give me strength_.

“Jules…” her voice trailed off in warning. “It’s just this week. We’ll be back on next week I promise you. It’s just…Tom, he’s...He’s off on his press tour…thing in two days and this is the only night he’s got free.” She paused before admitting, “I just want to spend time with him before he goes.”

When he had called her last night asking if she was free the following evening, wanting to try to get together at least before he left, she hadn’t hesitated. Of course she wanted to see him; wanted to spend what time she could with him. He’d been so busy the last week; between packing, various business commitments, and last minute organizing they hadn’t had any chance to really sit and talk. Not like they had in the weeks prior. And she’d missed it. Missed him.

It had only hit her early in the morning as she pushed her way into the crowded Underground carriage that having Tom come over meant that she would have to cancel on Jules. She’d selfishly held off as long as she reasonably could before calling, knowing that Jules would be less than thrilled.  _Well_ , she thought wryly,  _you certainly weren’t wrong_.

There was a huff from the other end of the line. “Fine,” Jules all but pouted. “But you so owe me. And big time. I’m talking two maybe three meals worth. Oh and a nice bottle of red,” Jules added as an afterthought. She could practically hear the grin on Jules’ face. “A very nice bottle.”

“Seriously?” Rosemary chuckled as she ran a hand through her hair, noting that she would most certainly need to wash it that evening before Tom arrived. One more thing to add to the list. “You are ridiculous.”

Jules let out a short, loud bark of a laugh. “And yet you adore me. Funny that.”

“I question the logic of it every single day,” Rosemary fired in response, mirth lacing her tone.  

“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah,” Jules intoned. “You keep saying that and yet here we are still friends.”

Rosemary rolled her eyes and groaned, “One of these days…”

Jules simply laughed in response; a warm, rich sound that pulled an unexpected answering laugh from Rosemary. When their laughter had fizzled out Jules let out a dramatic sigh and stated, “Since I’ve effectively been abandoned, I guess I’ll have to let you go now. I’ve got to call Nick and see if maybe he still loves me.”

“Such a drama queen,” Rosemary teased back. “Go on you, call your long-suffering fiancé and complain about what a horrid friend I am.” Both women laughed heartily at that. “Well off you go then. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Laters,” Jules echoed before she hung up. Well that’s one thing down.

Rosemary sighed and found herself glancing around her living room. It was neat enough, by her own standards; hell, it was clean enough that Jules wouldn’t so much as have batted an eye at the few stray pieces of clothing scattered about. But, she found herself fretting, would it be neat enough for Tom? She immediately shook her head at the thought.  It was ridiculous; she knew that with a dead certainty. He’d seen in flat in various states of disarray, especially when he would arrive at her door unannounced back from filming or promoting god knows where, and hadn’t cared in the slightest. She let out a low groan. She didn’t know why it mattered so much to her now. Or well, no, that was a lie; she knew all too well why it mattered and that had been half of the problem. “Mathews,” she hissed at herself, “get a grip.”

With a grunt of effort, she pushed herself up onto her feet and began to grab the bits and bobs that had slowly spread throughout the room since she’d last straightened it. Stray cardigans and magazines lined the backs and seats of chairs, various shoes and half-finished novels lay haphazardly by the doorway and the couch. In all honestly it was nothing really, but Rosemary knew there was no way she could just let it be. It would take virtually no time to straighten but at least this would give her something to do.

In the end it took all of fifteen minutes to straighten the room and, if the clock on her wall was to be believed, she still had a good six hours before Tom was due. Six hours to shower, dress, and make sure everything was in order. Six hours to get various snacks and drinks ready, and figure out dinner. _Do I cook or play it safe and go with ordering in? She pondered, groaning at yet another uncertainty for the evening. Cook. I’ll make him something nice, especially since he won’t have chance for anything home cooked for a while._

Rosemary found herself almost regretting not staying longer than the short morning shift she’d pulled at the second  _Stories_  shop; she’d covered for Hanna, who’d had a doctor’s appointment. It had only been a few hours but she had taken great joy in the simple tasks that had been her life’s blood for so many years. She had enjoyed the quiet hustle that was setting up the shop for the days’ business, organizing the registers and various displays, making sure they were stocked with paper bags and receipt tape. The little day to day things she found she missed more and more now that they were no longer hers to fret over. They’d had a handful of customers during that time; she’d sold two books, three magazines, and a handful of newspapers. A solid start if she did say so herself. Not a bad start for a Thursday morning.

She briefly thought of calling Hanna and seeing if there was any need at the shop, even for an hour or so, but quickly dismissed the idea out of hand. Hiding at the shop was not the way for her to handle the nerves that had set up residence in her stomach at the thought of the evening ahead, nor was it conductive to actually making sure everything was in order. She’d done enough hiding and avoiding in the last few months, it did her little good. Better to face things head on. No matter how it wrecked her nerves.

“Right,” she murmured to herself and turned her attention to the cramped, but functional, kitchen. A quick survey of her pantry and fridge told her she was in desperate need of a shop. Especially if she wanted to cook a decent meal for Tom. For the both of us, she corrected, not letting herself think too much on it. With a decisive nod, she headed to the door, grabbing her keys and purse from the small table and headed out to face the warmth of the May late morning.  

As she walked, Rosemary mentally went down her shopping list;  _veg for roasting, crusty bread, potatoes, cream, possibly leeks, bacon, maybe a small chicken?_ She laughed softly at herself; going out of her way to impress by cooking rather than the typical takeaway. Not that Tom would have been overly bothered with takeaway. But she wanted to make this nice, wanted to put in the effort. And she steadfast refused to let herself think too much on the why of it. She was a decent cook and this wouldn’t be stretching her. Too much at least.  

The weather had been wonderfully warm during the day and she was glad to take full advantage of it when she could. And today was certainly no exception. The pavements were full of the usual early afternoon foot traffic; people lost in their own worlds, navigating the streets almost by instinct. She found herself observing as she made her way slowly down the few blocks that separated her flat from the nearest market.

The Waitrose was far less crowded than she’d expected with the weekend drawing so close. She grabbed a basket and began to wander her way slowly down the aisles. She enjoyed the almost peace she found in her wanderings. She’d always found grocery shopping relaxing, though she could not put a finger on exactly why. Something to do with seeking out the perfect pieces in order to make something wonderful with them later. She chuckled to herself. It sounded ludicrous even in her own mind, but still it made a strange sort of sense to her.

She took her time searching through the produce available, picking each piece with care. Wanting everything to be perfect. A small voice in the back of her mind told her she was being utterly ridiculous, putting in this much effort for what amounted to nothing more than a night in with a friend. They weren’t dating for heaven’s sake and Tom didn’t need all this fuss, wouldn’t want it, she knew that. But she couldn’t shake the need to want to impress him. She thought of, and quickly dismissed, the idea of calling Jules for advice as she would have in the past. The last thing she wanted was a lecture, as well intended as it might be.  _She would never let me hear the end of it_.

With a groan, Rosemary dropped her head into her hands, half full basket tucked into the elbow of her bent arm. _Maybe this isn’t the best idea I’ve ever had_. She desperately needed to get a grip, and quickly.  _Right,_  she thought raising her head back up, this is just like any other night with a friend.  _Don’t go making a big deal out of it. Just get a few basics for the rest of the week and forget this mess. We can order a fucking curry and call it a night. He won’t hate you for not cooking for him, just relax and let it go_. She took another deep breath and pulled herself upright. Resolved, she quickly finished her shopping and headed back into the warmth of the early afternoon.  

Rosemary was juggling the reusable bag of groceries on her arm while rifling through her purse for her keys when her phone started to ring. “Fuck,” she muttered aloud, her fingers finally brushing against the cool metal of her keys. She quickly pulled them out and unlocked the door, pushing it closed behind her with the ball of her foot. Her purse and groceries landed in a messy pile on the nearest chair as she scrambled to find, answer, and place her phone onto speaker before voicemail cut in. “Hello?” she growled in frustration after finally finding and answering the damned thing.  _God, I need a smaller bag_ , she snapped at herself.  _And less bloody stuff_.

“Rosie,” Tom’s voice echoed in the room, slightly tinny with the distortion of the speakers.  “I wasn’t sure I was going to catch you. I…Is everything alright?” His voice was laced with concern as he carried on, seeming to have caught onto her less than cordial greeting. “I’ve not caught you at a bad time, have I?”

“No, no, no,” she reassured, brushing an errant strand of hair from her face where it had fallen from the messy bun she’d pulled it into prior to leaving her flat. “I just got in from the market. Had a bit of a fight trying to find my bleeding keys. They somehow managed to migrate to the very bottom of my purse. Again.” She let out a groan of frustration at that. She desperately needed a better organizational system for her bag. It was no better than a black hole at the best of times.

Tom’s laughter filled the room and she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face at the sound. “I take it you ultimately won that battle?”

“Just barely.” She reached down and gathered the shopping bag in her hand once more, making her way towards the kitchen. “So what do I owe the pleasure of this call?” Rosemary fought to ignore the unease that crept into her gut at the thought that Tom was calling to cancel their plans. She’d so been looking forward to having him to herself before he had to leave.  _It’s life, Rose. You aren’t the only thing in his life and you knew this going in. Deal with it and move on_.

“I just wanted to see if there was anything you’d like me to bring for tonight.” Relief flooded through her at his words. He wasn’t cancelling. She felt ridiculous that she’d even allowed herself to entertain the notion. Tom paused, she could hear him clear his throat before continuing, “And to see if the six o’clock start time was set in stone.”

Her heart dropped again.  _No_ , she scolded herself.  _No. He’s still coming, don’t get yourself get so fucking worked up over him being late. He’s still coming. It’s fine._  She busied her hands, putting her groceries away with a quick efficiency. The more she moved the less she would think, or god so she hoped.  “Oh, if you are going to be later that’s fine…”

“Oh no no no,” Tom blurted out in a rush, cutting Rosemary’s rambling off abruptly. “I’m not going to be late. I was…actually hoping to maybe come by earlier. If it’s not going to be putting you out.”

Rosemary laughed out loud despite herself at the hopeful uncertainty in his voice. It was almost soothing, the knowledge that she wasn’t the only one who seemed on edge and far too nervous. Once she’d placed the last package in its proper place, she moved back into the living room and began to pace back and forth. All of this nervous energy was going to be the death of her, she just knew it. She paused briefly at the window, looking down onto the crowded pavements at the people passing by. “Earlier is fine,” she reassured him.  _You’re still coming_. “How much earlier are you thinking?”

There was a long pause before Tom spoke again, his words tinged with a nervous laughter. “Um, well not now,” he joked, nervous energy palpable even through the phone, “but maybe in the next few hours? If that is alright with you? I don’t want to put any stress on you or make you feel like you have to rush.” He rambled on in that adorable fashion that was so utterly him. God, he would be the death of her.

“That’s fine,” she reassured, wishing that she could reach through the phone and squeeze his hand. It was a silly impulse she wasn’t sure she wanted to check. “Just ring before you head over, okay?”

Tom chuckled, “Sure thing.” She could hear a rustling from the other end of the line. “Are you sure there’s nothing you need me to bring? I could always stop by the shops on my way…”

She found herself laughing at his rambling once more. “You don’t need to bring anything, Tom. Just yourself.”

He chuckled again at that. “I think I can handle that. I’ll talk to you later then, okay?”

“Alright,” she breathed and shortly thereafter the call disconnected.  _Alright_ , she told herself.  _Here we go_.

It was quarter past three when the ringing of her phone broke through the loud whirl of the vacuum. With little else to do, Rosemary had spent the better part of the afternoon cleaning. The kitchen and bathroom where damn near spotless and her bedroom was neater than it had been in longer than she cared to think on; not that she expected him or anyone else to see it. Vacuuming the living room had been the last task on her list. That and then a quick shower and all she would have left to kill was time.

Quickly switching off the machine, she dived towards the coffee table, grabbing her phone deftly with one hand. She smiled as the screen flashed Tom’s name and swiping the screen to answer. “Hello you.”

Tom’s laughter filled her ear and sent a shiver down her spine. It floored her, the effect he had on her. How a word or, god, even his laugh could send her mind spiraling down paths she had no right to entertain. Not when she wasn’t completely sure what she wanted. Or well wasn’t sure she was willing to actually go after what she wanted. Maybe it was for the best he would be gone for a while. She could take the time to think, really think, about what she truly wanted and just what she was willing to do about it. Be completely certain before she decided either way. “…half an hour, give or take.”

Rosemary shook herself from her thoughts; her face flushing to what she was sure was a very bright red. He’d been talking, for god only knew how long, while she’d been wool gathering and she hadn’t heard a damned thing he’d said. “I’m sorry Tom, I honestly didn’t catch any of that,” she whispered. Even she could hear the embarrassment in her voice.

“You’re not listening to me, Darling?” She could easily hear the pout in his voice. “I’m crushed.” He laughed heartily before continuing. “As I was saying, I’m about to head into the station and catch the tube so I should be at yours in half an hour if all goes well.”

“Half an hour?” She parroted dumbly. “As in thirty minutes from now?”

There was a pause on the other end, “…Yes, that tends to be the definition of half an hour.” His voice was slower now, laced with confusion and concern. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” Rosemary forced out, rubbing her eyes with her free hand. She had maybe thirty minutes to shower and dress herself before he would at her door.  _Dammit all!_  “No its fine. I’ll see you in thirty minutes then.” She all but ran towards the bedroom, pulling open the nearest drawer and pilfering through its contents. Clothes, she needed to find the right clothes and then shower as quickly as she could. God, thirty minutes? That was  _nothing_.

“Rosie, are you sure…” Tom’s voice cut through her panic and she realized with a start that she hadn’t hung up the phone.  _Great_.

“Tom, its fine. I’ve got to go. I’ll see you soon. Okay?” She didn’t wait for his answer, merely hit the end button and tossed her phone onto the bed behind her. “What to wear, what to wear?” she hissed at herself, feeling all of her earlier tension and nerves reignite with a vengeance. “This shouldn’t be so bloody hard.”

Rosemary took a deep breath and forced herself to calm. She grabbed a t-shirt from the drawer; light green and soft from years of wash and wear. She grabbed a pair of dark jeans to pair with. Not the prettiest of ensembles but it would do.  _This isn’t a date_ , she told herself.  _Stop fussing_. “Good enough. It’s good enough,” she muttered to herself before digging through the top drawer and grabbing a much nicer set of bra and underwear than she would usually wear for a night in; she did not let herself think over long on the why of it. _Not a date. Absolutely not a date_.

Spinning on her heel, she all but sprinted to the bathroom, set the water to as hot as she could stand, stripped, and climbed into the spray. She washed her hair and herself as quickly as she could, knowing that her time was running painfully short. Once clean she scrambled to her room, hair and body wrapped in towels, and worked frantically to dry and dress. She had just turned off the hair dryer, studying the results in her bedroom mirror, when she heard the tell-tale knock on her door.

“Right,” she breathed, smoothing the front of her shirt down. “Now or never.”


	14. FOURTEEN

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

 

Taking a deep and calming breath, Rosemary dashed quickly from her room towards the front door. Tom’s bright smile greeted her as she pulled open the door and he moved swiftly to pull her into a quick, but warm, embrace. “Hello, Rosie.”

“Hey Tom,” she breathed into his hair. She pulled back and gestured him into the flat. “So,” she started as she shut the door behind him, “Make yourself at home. I was thinking we could order in, if that’s quite alright with you?”

“That sounds brilliant.” He settled himself onto the couch and quickly turned his attention back to Rosemary. “What are you thinking, food wise?”

She shrugged and settled beside him, her thigh pressing against his in the small space. She could feel the radiating heat of his body and she fought the shiver that threatened to tremble through her. She was tense and felt as though she were wound tight as drum. She cursed at herself. How had she gone from calm and collected to sensory overload as far as Tom was concerned? Tom, seeming to sense her unease, shifted his body away from hers, his eyes full of questions and concerns that he did not voice.

Rosemary smiled softly at him, willing herself to relax.  _ This is just a normal night; there is absolutely no need to be so on edge. None _ . “Um, well the curry place not too far from here is quite good. And Chinese is always an option. And there is a decent pizza place close as well. It really depends on what you’re in the mood for.”

Tom’s eyes narrowed momentarily before relaxing. “Curry sounds lovely.”

“Perfect.” Rosemary popped to her feet and quickly dashed into the kitchen, pulling open the drawer she kept her collection of takeaway menus. She rifled through them until she found the menu for  _ Curry Palace _ . 

Letting out a quiet whoop of victory, Rosemary clutched the folded menu in her hand and called out. “Do you want anything to drink while I’m in here?”

“Water’s fine,” Tom answered from directly behind her. 

Rosemary let out a shriek of alarm and whirled around to face him. She clutched her hand to her heart, feeling it hammer away alarmingly in her chest. “Mother of god, Hiddleston!” She hissed. “Wear a bloody bell! You scared a good ten years off my lifespan you great bloody git!” 

Tom smiled sheepishly at her. “Wasn’t my intent.” He paused, studying her. She felt herself grow uneasy under her gaze, shifting from foot to foot as she twisted a lock of her hair between her fingers. She was a fidgeting mess and she knew there was no way Tom wouldn’t notice. “Rosie, are you alright?”

She narrowed her eyes at him and snapped, “No, I’m not bloody alright, you scared the hell out of me!” She turned away from him quickly, dropping the menu onto the counter, and busied herself getting a glass from the cabinet over the sink. That wasn’t what he had meant and she’d known it. But admitting that something was wrong would mean having to talk about it and she was in no way ready to cross that bridge. Not yet. Flying off the handle at him, however, had been the absolute worst way to react. But there was little she could do about that now _. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid _ . She turned towards the refrigerator and pulled out the pitcher of filtered water, filling the glass in her hand and then handing it to Tom without speaking.  

He took the proffered glass with a raised eyebrow. “That’s not what I meant, Rosie.” He placed the glass onto the counter and turned his full attention on her. “Something is obviously wrong. Please talk to me.” He reached out and took her hands in his. “Is it something I’ve done? Something I’ve said?” His blue-green eyes were brimming with concern and tinged with uncertain fear.

Rosemary shook her head fiercely. “No. No, it’s not you.” She tried to offer him a small smile but it felt forced and she could see the uncertainty growing in his eyes. “I’ve just been stuck in my head. I’ve got something I’m trying to work out for myself and it’s a fair bit harder than I thought.”

Tom squeezed her hands gently and rubbed his thumbs over them in a soothing manner. “What is it, darling? Maybe I can help?”  

His expression was so sincere, Rosemary wanted to burst into tears. Instead, she shook her head and pulled her hands from his. “This is all on me, Tom.” She paused to clear her throat which had gone tight with emotion. “But when I do, I will tell you, alright?” Her mind flashed to another conversation, weeks earlier, where he had spoken words not so dissimilar to her. The memory stopped her in her tracks, and she wondered if this was how he had felt; a jumble of confusion and guilt. 

Tom watched her for a few moments, she could see the emotions flitting through his eyes quicker than she could register them. He finally nodded. “Alright.” They both stood awkwardly in the kitchen, staring at one another, and Rosemary wondered if she had spoiled what she had hoped would have been a pleasant evening. 

“So,” he started, his voice warm and steady, “it’s far too early to order in.” He plucked the menu from the counter, eyeing it briefly, “Though Indian does sound divine, and most certainly has my vote for later. Do you have snacks to tide us over until a more appropriate meal time?”

And like that the tension between them was broken. The conversation was far from forgotten, but for now Tom was willing to let it lie. Rosemary was grateful for that, flashing a sincere smile and turning to rummage through the cabinets for the various snacks she’d procured for the evening. She pulled down a hefty amount, handing them all to Tom in short order. He laughed and shook his head as he carried them back into the living room. She in turn grabbed his water and a can of Coke for herself before following.

Settled on the couch once more, the pair found themselves talking and laughing. Tom’s tentative play was now edging most certainly into the realm of definite. While none of the other principles had been cast, there were several potentials in serious consideration. The show was a modern one; a story full of angst, lies, and heartbreak and Tom was set to play a man caught in the center of it all. Rosemary was enthralled by the enthusiasm Tom was exuding. The way his face lit up as he talked about the show and his character spoke volumes.

Rosemary, in turn, prattled about the shops and their usual headaches. She talked about how while she was thrilled with the success she, and her team, had achieved, she sometimes missed the simple day to day tasks of running a relatively small bookshop in central London. She also spoke about her family, how she was planning to head back to Hereford in June for her mother’s birthday for the party she was helping her father and aunts plan. It was her mother’s fiftieth and they had rented the local parish hall and planned to deck it out in any and everything Elvis; her mother being a massive fan of the King of Rock and Roll much to her father’s disdain.

Snacks and drinks were casually demolished as they talked away the remaining afternoon; sharing childhood stories and discussing silly things they hadn’t really had the chance to discover about each other. It was wonderful and Rosemary couldn’t remember ever feeling so comfortable just sitting and talking with another person, bar Jules and that hadn’t felt remotely the same if really allowed herself to think on it. Tom was different. He always had been.

As the sun began its descent, they browsed through the  _ Curry Palace _ menu, talking about the various specials and good naturedly debating their picks for the best curry spot. She defended the local hole in the wall located near her parent’s while he swore up and down the small family owned spot near his was the best he’d ever eaten. Once they had agreed, begrudgingly, to disagree, Rosemary called in their orders, shooting Tom a pointed glare as he tried to hand her his card for payment. “No,” she mouthed at him before rattling off her card number from memory to the man taking their order. He rattled back her order and promised that it would arrive in about an hour. She thanked him and ended the call.

“Why won’t you let me pay for dinner?” Tom protested as she set her phone back on the table. “I’m the one invading your home and your time, it’s the least I could do.” 

Rosemary shook her head, “Not happening. You have yet to let me pay for anything all the times we’ve eaten together…”

“You paid for the Chinese that once,” Tom cut in.

She shot him a glare, “Only because I’d ordered it not knowing you were going to be there. And I shared it out of the goodness of my heart, mind you.”

“But that still counts!” Tom chuckled triumphantly.

“Oh yes, once out of a dozen or so times. Totally and completely fair, Thomas.” The sarcasm fairly dripped from her words and both broke into laughter. “I’ve paid for it,” Rosemary stated once she’d calmed. “And that’s that. Now if you want to be actually helpful why don’t you chose the first film?”

“Sounds fair,” Tom agreed as he jumped up off the couch and headed toward the bookshelves which housed her DVD and Blu-ray collection. 

He spent far too long browsing her selection before finally settling on a romantic comedy. She quirked an eyebrow at him and he shrugged, offering her a sheepish smile before turning toward the entertainment center and setting the film up to play. Their food arrived half way into the film. She paused it and sent Tom in search of plates and utensils as she retrieved the food. They ate in a companionable silence, pausing between bites to comment on the story unfolding on the screen and it’s ridiculously unrealistic plot. They laughed and genuinely enjoyed every last bit of it.

A historical drama was next on the list. It was an older film that Rosemary had only just purchased and was very much eager to watch. She could feel Tom’ eyes on her as she lost herself in the tragic tale and took comfort in his taking and squeezing of her hand when the main female protagonist lost and buried the man she loved. Rosemary caught the shine of tears in Tom’s eyes when she glanced at him during a particularly emotional scene and gently offered her own support much as he had earlier. He flashed her a warm smile and pulled her against him. She stiffened at first but quickly relaxed enough to rest her head on his shoulder.

By halfway through the fourth film of the evening, Rosemary could feel her eyes growing heavy She fought against the cloud of exhaustion that threatened to overwhelm her. She wasn’t ready for the night to be over. She ducked out from beneath Tom’s arm, who quickly paused the film at her movement, and made her way quickly towards the kitchen, grabbing a soda from the refrigerator. She cracked open the can and drank deeply, hoping the caffeine would kick in enough to pull even a fraction more time out of the evening. Can in hand, she made her way back into the living room and settled once more back onto the couch. Tom hit play once again and wordlessly pulled her back against him. It wasn’t long before the drowsiness crept back in. She blinked repeatedly, trying desperately to keep herself awake, but to no avail. She let out a small yawn and tried to focus on the action on the screen before her. Her eyes steadily grew heavier as the heat from Tom’s body soaked into her. She blinked once, then twice, before her eyes drooped closed and did not reopen.

—

Warmth surrounded her and she snuggled deeper into it, pressing her face against the solid form beside her. This pillow was far firmer than she remembered having. But it felt so good and smelled even better. She burrowed her face deeper and felt the solid form vibrate in response. The reaction seemed strange to her sleep addled mind.  _ Pillows don’t vibrate _ . Slowly consciousness started to bleed through and she became aware that it was a person she was pressed tightly against, and not the pillow she’d believed it to be.

She pushed herself up, rubbing her eyes and glancing around the dim room groggily. She was vaguely aware that the television was on, the main menu of a Blu-ray disc looping on the screen with its sound muted. She turned her attention back to the person she was leaning against.  _ Tom _ . Her fuzzy brain supplied her with the name and a hazy recollection of the night’s events. “What times it?” she murmured.

Tom laughed softly beside her; she could feel the vibrations of it against her side. He shifted slightly in his seat, “Nearly half two.”

“What?” Rosemary pushed herself up more fully. “Why didn’t you wake me? God, how long have I been out?”

“You looked comfortable and I hadn’t the heart to move you. As for how long,” he shrugged, smiling at her warmly. “I’d say at least two hours or so.” 

As the sleepy haze retreated a little more, embarrassment took its place. “You should have woken me,” she groaned, color slowly flushing her cheeks. She turned her head to hide it from him. “I can’t have been good company nor could it have been comfortable having me draped all over you.” 

Tom shrugged and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close once again. “It wasn’t a big deal. Honestly.” Rosemary could feel his breath on her hair and she felt a shiver run through her. “Are you cold?”

She froze. Of  _ course _ he had felt that. How could he not? She shrugged noncommittally. “A little.” At this she felt his hands settle firmly on the outside of her arms. He rubbed them briskly for several seconds and she wanted nothing more than to melt into his touch. 

“Better?” Rosemary shivered again as his breath tickled her ear. God, he was going to be the death of her. Not trusting herself to speak she simply nodded. “Good.” She turned back towards him when she felt him shift beside her and watched as he grabbed the remote from the coffee table and deftly shut off both player and television. He stretched his arms above his head with a forceful yawn, the action tipping Rosemary off balance enough that she fell back against him with a soft grunt of surprise.

She flushed and pulled herself upright, muttering a quiet “sorry” at him. He waved her apology off and smiled gently at her before moving to stand

“It’s awfully late and I know you’re tired.” He paused and ran a hand through his hair as another yawn fell from him. “I honestly should be going. Thank you, again, for having me. This was wonderful and just what I needed.”

Rosemary pulled herself to her feet as well and returned Tom’s earlier smile before letting loose a yawn of her own. “I didn’t mean to keep you so late. But yes, this was really nice. I’m glad we got to do this.” She grunted in surprise as Tom pulled her into a tight hug. Her body tensed at the sudden contact before relaxing into his strong embrace. When Tom reluctantly released her, Rosemary moved to turn her head to his to thank him again for making time for her but was cut short as he made the same motion and suddenly she felt the press of his lips against her own. She couldn’t say for sure which of them had initiated it, but suddenly she found herself pressed tightly against him once more.

His lips were soft and so incredibly warm against hers. This felt right, being in his arms, feeling his solid, familiar warmth pressed tightly against her, his long fingers tangled in her hair. God, how had she gone so long without this?  _ Madness _ . She felt his tongue gently nudge against her lips, seeking entrance which she granted without hesitation. Her head was reeling at the sensations coursing through her; desire, joy, happiness, and a deep and aching need. This was everything she had ever wanted and so much more. She let her own fingers dance through his curls, enjoying the feel of the smooth strands beneath her fingers. The coarse feel of his beard against the smooth skin of her face sent shivers through her.  _ God, this man can kiss _ . 

They slowly broke apart, both gasping for breath. Her head spun with the mad rush of desire and exhaustion. Tom reached out and gently caressed her cheek with his hand. Rosemary found herself leaning into his touch with a sigh of contentment. Good god, she wanted this for always. His blue eyes, bright with desire and affection, locked on hers. 

“God, I am going to miss you,” he breathed.

His words sunk through her sleep and desire addled mind and she felt herself tense. He was leaving. In two days he would be gone; not forever, no, but for long enough. The reality of who and what he was hit her with a sickening force. He wasn’t just  _ her _ Tom, not really. He, or at least a large part of him, belonged to a world she didn’t fully understand. A world that had scared him into running from her once before. He loved her, she could feel it in the way he kissed her, the way he held her, but what if that wasn’t enough? She felt her earlier certainty begin to crumble beneath her. 

She could feel his eyes on her, feel his confusion at her tensing and withdrawing, but she couldn’t seem to bring herself to meet his gaze. “I,” she started, not knowing what she was going to say only that she needed to say  _ something _ . “Tom, I don’t…I can’t…” She felt his hand on her face tense before dropping once more to his side.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, his voice choked with emotion. “I shouldn’t have…”

Rosemary shook her head violently. “No. No. Please. Don’t. I just…I need to think, Tom.” She forced herself to raise her eyes to his. “I time to think before I…Please…” She doubted her words were making any sense but she hoped in vain that he could understand them anyway. She needed time to process what had just happened. She needed to think and be sure of what she wanted before she let whatever this was between them bloom any further. Even so, a part of her feared it was much too late for that now. 

Silently, Tom nodded. He swallowed several times before clearing his throat. “Okay. I…Can I...Can we talk…While I’m away…Would…Would that be okay?” 

Rosemary nodded and watched the emotions play across Tom’s now weary face. “I’ll call Tom, I just need...Time...Okay?” 

He smiled at her, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Okay.” He took a deep breath and headed towards the front door. “Goodnight, Rosie.” 

—

“Rose, seriously, where is your head today?” Jules asked, exasperation coloring her tone. Rosemary dropped the book she was holding on the counter and turned to face her friend, a slight grimace spreading across her face. She had been out of it, probably should have told Jules no when she called and asked her to fill in for Max; “Family emergency, he said. I know it’s frightfully last minute but I’m desperate.” 

But yet here she was. 

“It’s a long story,” she admitted, hoping Jules wouldn’t press the matter further but knowing it was a fruitless endeavor. 

Jules shot her a knowing look before settling onto the stool behind the counter and staring pointedly at her.

Rosemary hadn’t slept well the past several nights, not since Thursday night or well Friday morning if she were truly being honest. Her mind had been wandering unbidden back to that night and the kiss she had shared with Tom. The feel of his body against hers, his lips molded to hers, his fingers tangled tightly in her hair. And with those images came the tangled knot of confusion and guilt that was becoming a near constant companion.

She loved him; that much she knew with certainty. He cared for her, loved her even, that she could not deny. There was still very much something between them but was she ready to take that leap? To let herself trust him with her heart?  She wanted to. God, she wanted to. But she was scared; scared that it wouldn’t work and she’d be left heartbroken and alone again; scared that it if she didn’t take the chance she would regret it bitterly. Just  _ scared _ . How could she tell him that when she didn’t know herself? But she had to say  _ something _ , he deserved that much. He deserved to know how confused she was and why she had pushed him away. The only problem was she didn’t know how. But she knew she needed to. 

“I’m all ears, Rose.” 

Rosemary shrugged, not quite sure what to say. She took a deep breath. “I’m just…Thinking,” she trailed off. It was as close to the truth as she was willing to go. Jules raised a brow but didn’t push any further for which Rosemary was grateful. The last thing she wanted, or in all honesty needed, was Jules’ thoughts on Tom or on her choices. Not when she was so uncertain herself. 

Behind her the door chimed and she caught the peculiar look that crossed Jules’ face at the sound. Confused, Rosemary turned on her heel to face whomever had just walked into the shop. Confusion melted to stunned disbelief as an all too familiar face greeted her. Green eyes and a warm, caring smile that had always made her weak in the knees.

“Hello, Rosemary.” His voice was honey and warmth. He walked slowly from the doorway towards the desk. His dark hair was trimmed and neat, shorter than she remembered but it suited his strong features.  

“Adam.” She breathed.    
  
  
  



	15. FIFTEEN

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

 

 

Exhausted, Tom stumbled into the darkened room and let himself drop carelessly onto the large, unmade bed. He turned, burying his face into the rumpled pillows and groaned. God, he was tired. It had been a whirlwind of a day and all he wanted to do now was sleep for at least a year. More if at all possible. He’d been at this for nearly a week now; running interview to interview, answering the same handful of questions asked in slightly differing ways. Though the excitement of the first few stops on this, admittedly, chaotic promotional tour had slowly but surely began to fade, he was still excited to talk about the film. It had been a grueling shoot, long hours and frequent reshoots, but he was extremely proud of what he and his co-stars had created and could not wait to see the reaction it would receive.

 

He rolled over onto his back, throwing his arm over his eyes. He had the next seven hours completely free; a wonderful yet daunting prospect. He should sleep, god he wanted to sleep, but something told him that no matter how badly he wanted it, sleep would be more than a bit elusive. His mind though choked with exhaustion wouldn’t seem to keep quiet. It kept replaying; the feel of her lips on his, her soft yet firm body pressed against his, the feel of her silky hair between his fingers, the way her breath hitched as he pulled her closer to him. Every detail flashed through his mind, bright and clear.

 

An involuntary shiver ran through him. It was both heaven and hell. They hadn’t talked properly since that night and it was eating him alive. Far too often he found himself checking his phone during any spare moment, hoping for a call or at least a text. Something, _anything_ ; but as it stood it had been over a week and nothing. He could call her, open that line of communication himself and he had been sorely tempted to, but with this he knew that if there was a move to be made, it should be on Rosemary’s part. He couldn’t, he _wouldn’t_ , push her into anything; not again. He’d learned that lesson far too well. If they were going to try for something more it would be on her insistence or not at all. It was a gamble, that he was well aware. And it was his heart on the line, but Tom knew that if he pushed there was a very real chance he could lose her completely. And that, that was not an option. So he would wait and he would hope. He let out a sigh, closing his eyes once again and praying sleep would claim him, if only for a little while.

 

Several hours later he was brought crashing back into consciousness by a blaring noise. Heart pounding in his chest, it took him several moments to realize that the horrifically loud sound was in fact his phone. He laughed despite himself, shaking his head as he pushed off of the bed and stumbled through the darkness towards the dresser where he had emptied the contents of his pockets upon entering the room. His phone sat, face down on the dresser. Flipping it over revealed a waiting text message. From Luke. He groaned aloud before tapping the screen and opening the message.

 

_‘Interview tomorrow moved up from 0900 to 0830. You’ll be paired with Donna. Car will be by at 0745. Coffee will be waiting_ _J_ _’_

Tom typed back a short thank you in response as he walked slowly back to the bed, tossing his phone onto the rumpled bedclothes. A quick glance at his watch told him it was that time of the night which was both stupidly late and stupidly early. He dropped his head into his hands and let out a low groan. He was very much awake now and at the moment any real chance of falling back asleep seemed utterly hopeless. He let his weight fall back onto the bed. His head was still foggy with sleep and the disappointment he’d felt at seeing Luke’s name and not Rosemary’s was difficult to ignore or dismiss.

 

With a groan he pushed himself upright once again and fumbled at the bedside table for the television remote. He’d never been one for television but at this point any distraction would do. After three disappointing turns around the available channels he finally settled on a cooking show, some competition that looked far more intense than any cooking program ought to be. He couldn’t say what was happening on the show but the noise was distraction enough.

 

Tom blinked rapidly as his phone chimed again and he groped blindly on the bed for it. Hitting the side button to unlock the screen, he stared at the waiting message. ‘ _Car’s here._ ’ He blinked in confusion before glancing at the top of the screen for the time. _0745_. “What?” He breathed in disbelief. That couldn’t possibly be right. He rubbed his eyes and checked the screen again. Fuck, it was right. He must have dozed back off. Thank god he’d heard his phone.

 

Cursing, Tom glanced down at his attire, rumbled from wear and sleep. _Shit. Shit. Double shit_. He didn’t have time for a shower but he had to change. Scrambling off the bed and onto his feet and tore through the outfits he’d hung in the closet. Taking the first one his fingers touched, Tom wasted little time stripping and redressing, not caring if the suit trousers and button up shirt matched perfectly with the shoes he’d slammed his feet into. _Grey goes with everything_ , he told himself. He managed to wash his face and brush his hair and teeth and make it down to the waiting car by five after. He smiled briefly at the driver, apologizing profusely for his tardiness and slammed the door shut.

 

Traffic was mercifully light and they pulled into the studio lot with fifteen minutes to spare. Luke stood at the side entrance with an intern from the television studio. His blue suit was impeccable as always, but the tie around his neck had been loosened; a sure fire sign that Luke was more than a little on edge. Tom climbed out of the car and waved off the driver before jogging up to the two waiting men. His publicist shook his head and chuckled. “Cutting it rather close there, Hiddleston.”

 

“But I made it, Windsor,” Tom shot back. The small group made their way inside the building and through a hallway towards the elevators. He found himself tapping his foot to the beat of the song playing from the tinny speakers. A pop hit from sometime in the last decade; one that he recognized but couldn’t name. Once on the studio floor, Tom was rushed through hair and make-up and at twenty-five after he found himself sitting in front of a blue screen with Donna Jacobs waiting for their interviewer to arrive.

 

Donna was incredibly bubbly for the early hour; more so than he’d seen her in quite some time. She was talking jovially about something that Tom, admittedly, had not been paying an ounce of attention to. She paused halfway through her story to ask him a question and he’d, much to his chagrin, had to ask her to repeat herself. Donna had laughed and repeated her question with good grace. It still hadn’t made any sense and he found himself staring blankly at her, feeling like a complete tit. Guilt coursed through him; he really hadn’t been paying Donna any mind at all as she spoke. It was exceedingly rude of him and not at all like him.

 

He liked Donna; she had been a blast to talk with on long shoots, full of humor and a fair bit of biting sass. She was smart as a whip and hardworking, playing opposite her had been a delight. They’d gotten along well and it had been wonderful to catch up with her during the promotional work. She deserved his full attention, but between his exhaustion and worry he couldn’t seem to give it.

 

“Jesus, Tom,” she laughed, nudging him affectionately with her shoulder. “You aren’t listening to a word I’ve been saying are you?”

 

He shrugged, a sheepish smile spreading across his tired face. “Sorry. I’ve had an off night.”

 

Donna laughed in earnest. “You? Off? Never.”

 

Tom opened his mouth to retort but was cut short by the arrival of the woman conducting this particular round of interviews, “Cara Thomas,” she stated, hand held out for both to shake. She was a relatively tall, thin woman with dark brown hair and bright, lively blue eyes. Her skirt suit was a charcoal grey and well-tailored. She smiled brightly at them both before settling herself into the remaining chair. Cara made pleasant small talk with the two actors while the camera crew finished setting and checking their equipment; asking them how they found the city and if they’d had any chance to get out to see the sights. Donna fizzed with excitement as she talked with Cara about a small museum she’d found not too far from her hotel Tom nodded and smiled along. After the all clear was given, they settled in their respective seats as Cara began her introductions.

 

“Hello, I’m Cara Thomas and this morning I’m sitting here with the stars of the new dramatic thriller, _The School of Mist_ , Tom Hiddleston and Donna Jacobs. Welcome both of you.”

 

“Thank you for having us, its lovely to be here,” Tom answered with warm smile.

 

Donna smiled and nodded, “Yes, thanks so much.”

 

Cara leaned forward, question cards resting on her lap. “So what can you tell us about this new film? What drew each of you to it?”

 

Tom and Donna took turns discussing what they could of the film’s plot; a story centering on Tom’s character, Mark, a recent widower with a young son who discovers through a frightening twist of events that his late wife, Claire, was not all she seemed. He spoke of how he’d been drawn to the emotional journey the story took Mark on. How he’d been on the edge of his seat when reading the script and was absolutely thrilled when the part had been offered to him. Donna spoke of her character, Helen, who was a colleague of Mark’s who unwittingly became tangled in the dangerous web weaving around Claire’s past and how she’d pestered her agent for weeks to get her an audition.

 

“Helen’s a smart, no nonsense woman who is thrown for a loop, along with Tom’s character, Mark, and finds herself caught up in something so much bigger than she is. I loved her from the moment the script crossed my path, I wanted to get in her head and solve the puzzle she found herself caught up in. Plus,” she added with a good natured laugh and nudge of her elbow, “working alongside this goof was a definite perk.”

 

Tom touched his hand to his heart in a reflexive gesture and smiled, whispering as an aside, “She was an absolute _nightmare_.” He broke off with a quick laugh and continued, “But in all seriousness, Donna is a delight to work with. She is an absolute gem to play off of and a fantastic foil for my character’s confused floundering.”  

 

He rambled on in his usual fashion and, despite it being far from the first time he talked about the film and his character, he enjoyed being able to share his thoughts and experiences. This film had been a frustrating but rewarding endeavor and he was thrilled to finally be able to share it.

 

The rest of the day passed in very much the same manner; a fair deal of laughter and stories mixed amongst the same standard questions as the next round of interviewers paraded through. He fought against the impulse to check his phone at every conceivable break point, but it was a very near thing. Donna had quickly caught onto his twitchiness and after chuckling to herself over it called him out. “You are practically vibrating where you sit, what in the world is going on?”

 

He scrubbed his face with his hand and groaned softly. “It’s a long story…” he started, laughing to himself. That sounded the worst sort of cliché, but he honestly wasn’t sure how else to put it. Not without making him sound like he was possibly going out of his mind. _Maybe I am_ , he thought with a sigh.

 

Donna cocked an eyebrow, “It’s always a long story.” She patted the chair beside her. “Now sit and spill. We’ve got another twenty minutes before they spring us for the day and I’m all ears.”

 

Tom lowered himself onto the proffered chair and took a deep breath. “Just…worrying over something I have little control over.”

 

“That’s a non-answer if I’ve ever heard one.” She shot him a knowing look. “So the way I see it, Hiddleston, you’re about as tense as I’ve ever seen you. I’m surprised you’ve not popped a lens with how often you’ve taken off your damned glasses to clean them. And let’s not get started on the wrinkled mess you’ve made of your shirt. Hell, looking at you is giving me an ulcer. So what’s got you tied up in knots? Girl trouble?” She paused, smiling, and when he didn’t respond continued on. “Boy trouble?” She waggled her eyebrows at him and he cracked a small smile.

 

He sighed, “It’s…complicated.”

 

Donna snorted. “Complicated, huh? Which if my male to English translation is up to scratch means you did something stupid and you are currently awaiting forgiveness.”

 

Tom laughed despite himself. “Yes and no.” He paused, pulling of his glasses to rub at the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. “There is…someone. We aren’t together but we used to be…I made a series of exceeding poor choices during the time and things…It didn’t end well. We reconnected a few months back and are friends…Or trying to be.” He knew he was rambling and couldn’t for the life of him stop. It was risky, opening up like this. That was something he knew all too well. But he trusted Donna. She wasn’t the sort to run straight out and share any and everything she heard. He didn’t think she would change now. But still…“Things have been complicated. We…There is something there still, I think…I hope…I don’t know. But before I left we…Lines were crossed and she…She asked for time and it’s been well over a week now and I’ve heard _nothing_. I want to give her that. I know I need to give her that. I’ve pushed before…And it’s never ended well. But I…I want to know where we stand, I want to know if this hope I’ve got is all in vain or if, just maybe, there is a chance.”

 

Beside him Donna was uncharacteristically quiet and it unnerved him far more than he wanted to admit. Cautiously, he raised his head and turned to face her. She smiled warmly at him and let her hand fall briefly on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Well that is not the most…hopeful thing I’ve heard.”

 

He felt his heart plummet at her words. At someone else’s voice echoing what his mind had been none too gently shouting at him for days now. “Oh.”

 

“…But it’s not the least either,” she continued. “You’re doing the right thing, trying to be patient and letting her go at her own pace. Listening to her is ridiculously important and honestly will go a long way to making things right.” She squeezed his shoulder again. “But sometimes people need to be pushed, even if it’s just to get them to open up. So be patient but don’t be passive. If you wait too long for her to figure out what she wants and don’t try to at least talk with her, you might find one day it’s just a tad too late.”

 

Tom nodded silently, letting her words sink in. She had a point, of course she did. Donna was nothing short of uncanny with her insight. She was young, yes, but by no means did that mean she wasn’t observant or insightful. She’d seen a lot and wasn’t afraid to call things as they were. It was one of the many things he’d sincerely liked about her.

 

“Mr. Hiddleston? Ms. Jacobs? Your cars are here.” Tom looked up to see an intern standing in the doorway, clipboard in hand. The same young man from that morning, if he wasn’t mistaken. Josh. Nodding at him, Tom stood and grabbed his coat. He turned and waited for Donna to grab her things before both followed Josh down to the lobby and their waiting vehicles. He bid Donna good night and climbed into his waiting car, grateful to have made it through another day. Only a week and a half more of this and he would be home.

 

Once settled in the car, Tom leaned back into the seat, enjoying the softness of the smooth leather, and closed his eyes. For someone who spent the day mainly sitting and talking, he was ridiculously exhausted. _Not really sleeping the night before really didn’t do you any favors_ , his mind retorted. _Maybe sleep won’t prove so elusive tonight_. He sighed, hoping that would be the case. He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew, the car was pulling to a stop.

 

He’d blinked in confusion as he heard a voice call.  “Mr. Hiddleston, we’ve arrived.”

 

Tom shook his head in a vain effort to rouse himself enough to climb out of the car and make his way to his room. The lobby was relatively empty, a blessed gift, only a scattered handful of people milling about the sparsely decorated open room. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to interact with fans, he enjoyed talking with people and hearing their stories, he just wasn’t sure he had he energy for it. Not then. And the last thing he wanted was to be short with anyone; the fallout from such a thing would not be worth it in any way, shape, or form. He made his way quickly to the elevators and then up to the twentieth floor and his room.

 

Once again, he emptied his pockets on the wooden surface of the dresser. His next stop was the bathroom where he made quick work of stripping down and jumped into the shower. He set the water as hot as he could stand it, wincing at the heat before allowing himself to simply relax. He relished in the warmth of the water, lingering under the spray far longer than he normally would after making sure his body and hair were clean. He could feel the tension of the day slowly start to fall away. He finally managed to drag himself out of the shower nearly twenty minutes later, clean of body and renewed of spirit.

 

Towel around his waist, Tom wandered back into the main room and fumbled through his suitcase for a clean pair of pajama bottoms; a blue checked pair that he’d long since lost the matching top for. He finished drying himself and pulled them on, stumbling from one foot to the other to keep his balance. He rubbed his hair vigorously with the towel before tossing it back into the bathroom, he really should hang it up to dry but couldn’t seem to find it in himself to do so.

 

The beep of his phone caught his attention as he lumbered his way back to the bed. He stopped and flipped it over, turning on the screen. A text from Luke greeted him, a quick reminder that his flight was scheduled to depart at noon the following day and that a car was arranged to pick him up at nine. Tom typed a quick thank you and dropped both himself and his phone onto the bed.

 

As he lay on the bed, his mind replayed the conversation with Donna over and over again. He was doing the right thing in waiting, wasn’t he? It was what Rosemary had asked for and it had only been a week, he could wait; she was worth it…But still there was a niggling part in the back of his brain that would not keep quiet. He groaned, rubbing his face with his hand.

 

“Fuck it,” he hissed rolling over onto his side and grabbing his phone. A few quick swipes of his finger pulled up the dial screen of his phone and with a practiced ease he dialed in her number hesitating only moments before hitting send.

 

The phone rang once. Twice. Three times. _Shit, what time was it there?_ He wracked his brain trying to do the math in his head. God, it was probably stupidly late there. A groan escaped his lips. Maybe he should just hang up and try later. Shit, he didn’t know.

 

“Tom?” Rosemary’s voice cut through his panicking. It took him several seconds to realize what was going on.

 

He felt his heart leap into his throat. He took a quick, calming breath before responding. “Rosie, hi…Am I interrupting anything? I didn’t even think about the time difference. God, what time is it there?”

 

She laughed and the sound warmed him. “It’s fine. I was just getting ready to get dinner,” Rosemary paused and he heard a soft shuffling in the background. “It’s going on eight here.”

 

“Oh, good.” He laughed softly, feeling his heart start to slow in his chest. Dear lord, he was an absolute mess. “I was terrified it was like two in the morning or some other horrendously late hour and you’d be dead asleep and cursing me out for waking you.” She laughed at this and it was a truly beautiful sound. He paused a moment before asking, “How have you been?”

 

There was a slight hesitation in her voice as she answered and it sent tiny alarm bells blaring in his mind. “I’ve…I’ve been alright…Busy…But I’m glad you called. I’ve been meaning to but with one thing and another…” her voice trailed off.

 

“I know a thing or two about busy, Rosie,” he chuckled. “It’s completely fine. I’m just…It’s really nice to hear your voice,” he confessed, knowing he was likely pushing the tenuous boundary between them but needing to say it nonetheless.

 

“It’s nice to hear yours too,” Rosemary answered, her voice soft. “How has the tour been going? Where are you now, anyway?”

 

Tom had opened his mouth to reply when a male voice echoed in the background. “Rose, they’ve managed to find us a table. Come on before they give it away.” Confusion flooded through him. She was at dinner with a man; _another man_ , his mind hissed unhelpfully. He shook his head, trying to clear it. _Stop it,_ he told himself, trying to quell the unease roiling inside him. _Don’t jump to conclusions. She has plenty of male friends that she has every right to go to dinner with. Don’t you dare let yourself freak out over this_.

 

A muffled sound came over the line and through it he heard Rosemary yell, “Go in, Adam. I’ll be right there.”

 

_Adam?_ He felt the blood freeze in his veins. _Surely not_.

 

“Tom? Tom, I’m so, so sorry but I have to dash. Thank you for calling…” her voice trailed off for a moment before hesitantly coming back. “You’re home late next week, right?”

 

Startled by her question he nodded in response before shaking his head and answering verbally. “Yes. Late Friday afternoon if all goes according to plan.”

 

“Good. Good. Listen, after you get back can we meet up…I…There’s something I want to talk with you about.” Her voice was hesitant, uncertain, and he felt his heart drop in his chest.

 

“Oh…Alright. I’ll call you after I’ve settled and we can maybe meet up for a coffee.” He tried to keep his voice even and light, which was quite the feat considering he felt as though he were going to be violently ill.

 

“That sounds like a plan…I’ll see you soon,” she whispered and the line went dead.

 

Tom sat motionless on the bed, staring blankly at the phone still in his hand. He felt as if all the air had been knocked forcefully from his lungs as her words echoed in his head. ‘ _There’s something I want to talk with you about._ ’ He took a shuddering breath feeling as though sleep would be the very last thing he would get that night.

 


	16. SIXTEEN

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

 

It wasn’t that Rosemary purposely chose to not speak with Tom over the past week; she’d had every intention of reaching out to him even if just to hear his voice and make sure he was really alright. She knew his schedule would be demanding and that he would most likely run himself very near ragged. That was just how he was with work, or at least how he had been in years past. She didn’t think much would have changed in that respect…It was just that time and circumstance seemed to get away with her. Between the shops, planning her mother’s birthday with a busy aunt and a loving but admittedly scattered father, and now Adam’s reappearance in her life, she’d been struggling to keep everything in balance. She had told herself, time and time again, that once things settled she would make herself sit and call him. She had promised and Tom deserved at least that much of her. 

She had done a fair bit of thinking since he’d left; hadn’t stopped since he’d walked out the door early that Friday morning if she was being completely honest with herself. She hadn’t been able to sleep that night, her mind replaying all that had happened, screaming at her to do something, say something, _anything_ at all. She cursed herself for the way she had panicked, her clumsy refusal, and for the way she had pled for more time. She felt like the worst sort of person; playing with his emotions, leading him on. She hadn’t meant to, had been trying everything she could not to do so.  She knew how that felt, knew the pain and anguish it caused and regardless of their past, she couldn’t do that to him; to anyone. 

And by Sunday morning a cool, certain sense of resolve had settled upon her. She would call him, talk with him, let him know what was going on in her head. He deserved that much. The only hitch, as far as she could see other than the sheer nerve it would take but that was thought for a different time, was figuring out when to call. She hadn’t a clue where in the world Tom was, not specifically; he hadn’t gone into great detail and she hadn’t bothered to ask. The last thing she wanted to do was call him during the middle of his night and mess up what little sleep he would manage to scrounge together. But it was a risk she would have to take. She knew she couldn’t put this off. Not any longer. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them. 

Rosemary had been utterly distracted the entirety of the day, torn between worry of just what she was going to say and dredging up the nerve to actually pick up the phone and dial. As each hour passed she told herself she would try during the next one; on and on and on until the day was all but spent and she had nothing to show for it. She hated how she was hesitating; even knowing what she needed to do couldn’t seem to force her hand. She was a coward of the worst sort. 

Her uncertainty bled heavily into the next morning and she felt as though she had been all but useless to Jules and to the shop. Rosemary couldn’t seem to focus on anything at all and it was driving her out of her mind with frustration. She needed to talk to Tom but making herself do so was another matter entirely. But it wasn’t something she could put off, not if she wanted to have any chance of keeping him in her life. And she knew with a certainty that she needed him in her life. 

But when the door opened and Adam’s voice called her name everything else had fled from her mind. He was there. After nearly a year of nothing he was suddenly there. Why was he there? Why now? She couldn’t make sense of it, could barely think. She’d stood, frozen in shock and confusion as Adam slowly made his way towards the counter and towards her. His smile was soft, hesitant, and unsure. And when she studied his face she could see the same emotions swirling in his eyes. Neither spoke for what felt like an age and Rosemary could feel Jules’ eyes on them both. 

Adam was the first to break. “I…I’m glad I caught you here…It’s been…God, forever. How are you?” 

She had to fight the urge to laugh aloud. That was a loaded question if she’d ever heard one. Rosemary, instead, smiled at him. She really was, in truth, glad to see him. Despite the pain she’d felt at losing him, losing them, she had missed simply being able to talk with him about stupid, silly things. He’d been such an important part of her life…And then he had just been gone. It had been their decision, his and hers, a clean break for all intents and purposes. And it had made sense. Both were hurting and both knew that with the way things stood, they wouldn’t have worked. Keeping in contact would have only prolonged their pain. She knew that but that didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt. Or that she hadn’t grieved the loss of what they were and what they could have been. 

Rosemary shot a quick look at Jules, who nodded seeming to understand her silent question, and turned, motioning Adam to follow behind her. They walked in silence from the main floor into the backroom and what used to be her office. Once they were inside, Rosemary closed the door and turned to face him. He sat, half leaning on the side of the desk. His hair was a touch shorter than she remembered but still the dark, familiar shade she could so easily remember running her fingers through whenever the mood had taken her. His eyes were still piercing though now she could see uncertainty and discomfort shining in them. It mirrored her own in a way she found disconcerting. He was dressed well; dark linen slacks and a light grey button up, the first two buttons left undone. If he’d worn a jacket that day, it was nowhere to be found. He looked…Wonderful. 

“Sorry,” she started, turning her gaze from him briefly. “I didn’t think this was a conversation either of us particularly wanted an audience for.” 

Adam chuckled nervously and shook his head. “Most definitely,” he agreed.

Rosemary took a deep breath and raised her eyes to his once again. “I…Adam, what are you doing here?” The question had been slamming around her brain since she turned to find him standing in the doorway, staring at her. 

He laughed softly. “A conference, actually. I arrived mid last week and have been running round ever since. We have a free day today and I just…I wanted to see you.” The honesty in his voice struck something in her. She found herself smiling softly at him in return. “I didn’t mean to surprise you like that….I just, well you’ve been on my mind lately and when I heard I was coming back…I just…I knew I had to at least stop in. I know things ended between us but I still consider you an important part of my life.” 

“I…” Rosemary started, not quite sure what to say in response. What could she say? She’d missed him too. He’d been a very large part of her life and it had taken her months to get over the loss of their relationship and their friendship. It had been an uphill battle but one she thought she just may have conquered and now... “It’s been over a year, Adam…Why...” she paused to clear her throat. “Why now?”

She watched as the cascade of emotions played across his face. Confusion. Remorse. Regret. Longing. Cautious hope. He swallowed thickly before opening his mouth to respond. “Because I didn’t know how…After all of the time that passed, I wasn’t sure how to pick up the phone and say that I missed you. And when I got the email about this conference I jumped at the chance to get to come home. To see my family…And to try to see you.” 

“And how are your parents? And Grace?” She’d never been particularly close with Adam’s parents, or his sister for the matter, though they had always been cordial enough. She had liked them, gotten on well at family gatherings, but hadn’t grown particularly close to them. And after they had split, Rosemary hadn’t seen the sense in trying.

“They’re well as far as I know,” He answered with a small smile. “Grace got married about three months back. She and Graham are expecting their first around Christmas.” 

The smile that spread across her face was genuine. She’d like both Adam’s sister and her fiancé and was tremendously pleased to see that things were going well with them. “That’s wonderful. I remember she and Graham getting engaged but I hadn’t realized that they’d married. I bet you’re excited to be an uncle.”  

Adam nodded, “Very much so…I’m actually meeting up with them and my parents for a late lunch in about…” He trailed off and glanced quickly at his watch. “Damn. In half an hour. Shit, I absolutely hate to have to do this but if I don’t leave now I’ll be dreadfully late and I’ll never hear the end of it.” 

Rosemary waved it off. “Don’t fret, I completely understand and I remember well enough.” They both laughed at that. 

Once the laughter had died down, Adam pulled out his wallet and quickly plucked a card from it. “Here.” Rosemary took the proffered card, turning it over in her hand. She saw his name and job title embossed on the front along with two telephone numbers, US and UK. “I’d like to get lunch sometime this week, if you can. Just to catch up. Those are my numbers; please can you call me tonight so we can try to arrange something?” 

She nodded silently and then, without thinking, snuck past him and grabbed a piece of scratch paper and a pen. She quickly scribbled her own number and handed it to Adam without ceremony. “Here’s mine. Just in case.” She watched the careful smile spread across his face as he stared quickly at the paper before pocketing it. “I’ll call you later.” 

Adam nodded silently and then, with only a slight hesitation, gathered her into his arms for a brief embrace. He smelled the same, she noted abstractly; woodsy with just a hint of smoke. She’d always loved that scent. “Talk to you later,” he whispered into her hair before pulling back and heading out towards the main floor of the store. 

With a groan, Rosemary settled herself onto the corner of the desk. Her head was spinning with confusion and a mix of emotion that she didn’t dare try to place. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or cry at the absurdity of it all. She settled for staring at the card in her hand, turning it over and over again in her hand.

“Knock, knock.”

Rosemary’s head shot up to find Jules standing in the doorway, a knowing smile on her face. “Do you need…Is everything okay out there?” 

Jules nodded, “Yeah. We’re fine…Are you alright? I saw Adam leave and when you didn’t come out…” 

“I’m fine,” she insisted, offering a shaky smile. “Just trying to make sense of it all.” 

She watched Jules eyes narrow slightly but she appeared to think better of whatever she’d be about to say, only nodding. “Well,” she stated after several long moments of silence. “Whenever you’re ready come on back out. I’ve got a box of magazines that need to be put away with your name on it.” 

Rosemary snorted, tucking the card into the side pocket of her jeans. “You do remember that technically speaking I am your boss.” 

Jules cackled in amusement. “Details. Details.” 

With a roll of her eyes, Rosemary got back to her feet and followed Jules back out into the main storefront. She grumbled good-naturedly as Jules pointed at the box of magazines and started the tedious task of unboxing and placing them on their respective shelves. It was busy work but with the way her head had been spinning it was a welcome reprieve. 

The rest of the day was, thankfully, calmer. Once the magazines had been stocked, Rosemary flitted back and forth around the store, completing whatever task she could get her hands on. Anything to keep her occupied. If Jules noticed, and knowing Jules, Rosemary was dead certain she had, she made no comment on it; simply watching with a knowing eye. Rosemary had felt a sense of relief leaving the shop that evening. She could go home, collapse on her bed, or more realistically the couch, and just breathe. 

The commute home was pleasant enough for a Monday evening’s rush hour. True she was cramped and crowded, but then so was everyone else. The chaos of it was in itself a comfort. Somethings remained blissfully normal and she could sorely use a bit of normality. The evening air was warm as she made her way from the tube station towards her building. 

Rosemary could feel the business card burning a hole in her pocket as she made quick work of the main door lock and dropped bag and keys onto the entryway table. Sighing wearily, she pulled the card out of her pocket, flipping it idly between her fingers. She promised to call Adam, and he’d looked so hopeful, but what on earth could she say to him? When he’d left, when they had ended, she had assumed that that was it. She’d grieved the loss of what she had hoped would have been her future and had worked to pull herself back up and to start to move on. Seeing him again opened wounds she had thought healed, or at least were well in the process of doing so. 

She stared at the card in her hand. Adam had certainly thrown her for a loop and she found herself cycling through joy, grief, and confusion at the thought of him being so near. She’d missed him, she couldn’t deny that. But what did missing him mean? For him? For her?...For Tom? The color drained from her face. 

_Damn. Damn. Double damn_. 

A loud blaring from her purse drove Rosemary from her thoughts. Her phone, she realized with a breathless laugh, it was her phone. She ran quickly back to the table and dug it out from amongst the chaos of her bag. She glanced at the screen, seeing a number she hadn’t recognized. A brief flicker of hope bloomed in her chest. Maybe it’s Tom… 

She swiped to answer, pulling the device quickly to her ear. “Hello?” 

“Rose, its Adam.” 

She fought to ignore the brief flash of disappointment that raced through her. “Adam,” she breathed, “Hi…I was going to call you…” 

His soft laughter cut her off, “Its fine, love. I just got settled back in my hotel room and thought I’d call instead.” He paused and she heard a muffled shuffling from the other end of the line. “How have you been? You never did answer earlier.” His tone was calm, reassuringly free of judgement or insistence. 

Rosemary cleared her throat. “I’ve been busy,” she answered honestly. “With the second location and trying to juggle the two. We opened it in January and it’s been a bit of a whirlwind. But it’s been good. Stressful, but good.” So much else had happened though and she wasn’t sure how to even begin to bring it up; or if he had any desire to hear it. Realizing she had been quiet a touch too long she continued on. “How about you? How have you been?” 

Adam chuckled, “I’ve been well. Busy, like you. God, they’ve been running me ragged but it’s been worth it. I’ve learned so much.” He took a breath and laughed before continuing. “The food there is terrible though. Lots of deep fried mess, smothered in gravy. It’s insane what these people drown their food in.” 

Rosemary chuckled in response. “So that explains how you’ve kept your figure.” The joke fell from her lips unbidden and she bit then, cursing herself. _Too familiar_. It was both too late for such things and far, far too soon. 

But if Adam had felt uncomfortable he’d hidden it well. “That and running around like a mad man hopped on caffeine and stress. I may have stuffed myself silly at lunch though, it’s been far too long since I’ve been able to have a proper meal.” 

A silence fell between them and Rosemary found herself pacing the living room, unsure what to say to break it. She finally settled herself onto the couch, curling her legs beneath her, and bit absentmindedly at her thumb nail. Why did this have to be so awkward? 

“So…” Adam started. 

“So…” She echoed. 

He laughed. “I’m pretty much free in the afternoon on Wednesday…Would you be able to meet…For lunch, perhaps? Nothing fancy, just somewhere we can sit and talk.” He paused, an uncertainty creeping into his voice. “Or we could go for a coffee…Whatever you’d be more comfortable with.”

She took a deep breath, trying to sort through her own cloud of emotions. She wanted to meet with him, wanted the chance to really catch up. Coffee would work well for that but she could hear in his voice just how much Adam had wanted it to be a meal they shared and talked over. And she didn’t want to deny him that. “Lunch sounds wonderful. Do you have a particular place in mind or do you just want to swing by the shop and we can pick from there?” 

Adam paused for a long moment, clearly thinking it over. “I’ll meet you there and we can figure it out.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” She heard him yawn alarmingly. “Adam, you sound completely knackered. Why don’t I let you go and you try and get some sleep.” 

He stumbled through a garbled protest before seeming to give up the ghost. “Fine, you win.” Another yawn broke through and she fought to echo one in sympathy. “I’ll call you Wednesday before I head over, alright?” 

“Alright. Speak soon.” She dropped the phone on the couch beside after hanging up and shifted to pull her knees to her chest. For good or ill, it was done. Now all she had to do was wait and see what would come of it. Rosemary let out a sigh and glanced once more at her phone. Tom. God, she needed to call Tom. She could feel the chaotic emotions storming through her at the thought and knew that at that time there was no way she could get through the kind of phone call she needed to have with him. _Not now_. _Tomorrow_ , she told herself. She would call him tomorrow, once she was more in balance, and try to sort out whatever there was between them for good or ill. _Please for good_ , she found herself thinking. _Please, please for good_. 

But the next day came and went in a blur of activity and confusion. Hanna had called in the morning, the shippers had messed up again and no matter how she had ranted and complained, they wouldn’t listen to her. So she had called Rosemary, hoping that her authority could fix the mess. It had been a stressful day of constant phone tag and very near screaming matches. By the time she had gotten everything sorted, it was very near nightfall and she still hadn’t called Tom; but there was little she could do of it now. She cursed herself and stared determinedly at her phone. She could text him, just to say hello but that seemed…wrong somehow; like cheating. So she hadn’t and she fell into bed that night trying to stamp down the guilt she felt at her cowardly behavior. 

Wednesday morning dawned rainy but warm. She’d dressed quickly and puttered around her flat, nursing a cup of strong coffee. She was a ball of barely contained nervous energy; she could feel it vibrating through her skin. She’d called Hanna to see if her sorting from the day before had helped but hadn’t received a response yet. Probably wouldn’t for another hour or so, once the morning affairs had been straightened out. _Fair enough_. She’d also sent Jules a quick text, saying she’d be swinging by mid-morning and if there were any concerns to let her know then. 

How she had managed to hold herself together for those hours between waking and when she deemed it a safe enough time to venture out to _Stories_ she’d never know. The commute was pleasant enough, the train hadn’t been as crowded as she’d come to expect and she’d made good time walking from the station to the shop. She’d been greeted by Max as she entered the shop. He offered her a smile and waved towards the door of the storeroom. “Jules is back in the office,” he pointed out before turning back to the stack of magazines he was sorting through. 

Rosemary offered me a quick thank you before hurrying back towards the storeroom. She found Jules, head bent over the desk and red hair falling into her eyes. She knocked politely on the door frame before entering. Jules head shot up at the sound. “Well hey there stranger.” 

“Hey yourself.” She settled into the available chair and folded her hands in her lap, her foot bouncing nervously against the floor. “So what do you have for me?” 

Jules laughed and shook her head. “If you’re that anxious for paper work, god help you if you are, you can get to work helping sort through these.” She shoved a stack of papers at Rosemary who took him greedily. “You gonna tell me what’s got you all out of sorts? Or do I get to play twenty questions and drag it out of you?” 

Rosemary sighed, but didn’t tear her eyes away from the papers before her. “Lunch with Adam,” she answered simply. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jules sit up straighter. 

“Oh ho now.” 

She shook her head. “It’s not what you are thinking, Jules. So stop it. We’re just meeting to catch up. Don’t read too much into it.” She’d been trying not to do the same, to not question both Adam’s motives and her own.

Jules looked at her pointedly but she chose to ignore it, burying herself into the work before her. She paused, every fifteen minutes or so, to check the time on her phone. She passed the rest of the late morning into afternoon this way, with many a look from Jules; all of which she steadfast ignored. But noon came and passed without a word. Fifteen after and nothing. By half past she was beginning to truly worry. 

It wasn’t until her phone began to ring at quarter of that she felt herself relax. She swiped the screen quickly to answer. “You on your way?” she asked, hope and relief coloring her tone. 

There was a pause on his end and she felt herself deflate. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been swamped here and I honestly don’t think there is any chance I can break away. I feel wretched and I will make it up to you? How about dinner? I’m not free tonight but I should have an evening free early next week, Tuesday most like. I can book a table and pick you up at yours.” 

Rosemary hesitated. Lunch was one thing…But dinner. There were connotations there that she wasn’t sure she was ready for. Not with Adam; and certainly not now. Dinner _meant_ something. But she desperately wanted to see him. To catch up and he very obviously wanted the same. And there seemed to be little other option open. Rosemary let out a soft sigh. “Dinner works. I’ll see you Tuesday then?”

Adam chuckled, relief evident in his voice. “Yes, love. Tuesday it is. See you then.” 

“See you.” She echoed.


	17. SEVENTEEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well we are edging closer to the end of this particular tale, there is one chapter left after this and then an epilogue.

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

  
  


Rosemary felt an all too familiar uneasiness wash over her; truthfully, she’d been on edge since she’d opened her door to Adam the half hour previous. The knot in her stomach that had been growing steadily all day bloomed fully into life as she took in his tall form in navy suit jacket, white button up shirt, slim blue tie, and dark jeans. It was obvious he’d taken care in dressing for the evening and that in and of itself set off quiet alarm bells in her mind. She shushed them as thoroughly as she could, telling herself was being ridiculous. 

 

He wouldn’t tell her where they were going and would only smile sweetly when she’d ask.  _ Damn the man _ . So she’d kept her mouth shut as he led her into the underground station and then through the gates onto the platform. It was just dinner, just talking, nothing more; her nerves were unnecessary and utterly ridiculous. She kept telling herself this as she watched the platform fill with evening commuters and as the boarded the next arriving train. Rosemary found herself watching the people surrounding her as the chatted amongst themselves or stared with blank faces at the mobiles. Anything to keep herself from focusing on the growing unease inside her. She’d always enjoyed people watching, especially on the tube. It was amazing the way people acted when they were completely oblivious to the world around them or at least pretending to be. She sighed and shook her head. 

 

She kept her watch up as the train rumbled along the track and people crowded on and off the carriage at each stop. Commuters on their way home from work at long last; tourists anxiously eyeing the map above the seats, muttering off stops until they found the one they were looking for. As the train rolled to a stop several minutes later, she watched as Adam stood and held his hand out to her. “This is us,” he announced, lacing his fingers in hers and pulling her towards the carriage door. Her unease only grew as they made their way from the platform, up the crowded escalator, and finally through the ticket barrier. She knew this route, knew it like the back of her hand.  _ Please no _ . 

 

“Adam…” she started, wariness coloring her tone as their destination came fully into view. 

 

Rosemary found herself staring at the restaurant entrance in stunned horror.  _ God, not again,  _ she cursed internally. _ Of all the damned places _ . She couldn’t fathom why hadn’t she realized that he’d meant this place? Of course he would have chosen this particular restaurant; it had been theirs after all, tangled as it was in memory and emotion. How could he have meant anywhere else? She let out a deep breath and turned back to face him.  

 

“Ready?” He asked with a warm smile. His eyes were bright with excitement, hand outstretched towards hers. 

 

She nodded dumbly, took his hand and followed him inside. Rosemary noted, with a flood of blessed relief, that Darcy was not manning the hostess station this particular evening. She murmured a small, quick prayer of thanks for that small mercy. The last thing she needed was Darcy and her persistent questions, especially after the last time. This was bound to be difficult enough without her cheery interference. 

 

The woman who stood at the station smiled brightly at the pair as they approached. Her blonde hair was pulled into a low ponytail at her neck and she wore a black cardigan over a maroon and white knee length dress. She greeted them warmly, introducing herself as Sophie and asking if she could help them.

 

Adam nodded, straightening his tie with his free hand before stepping up to the podium, “Yes, we should have a reservation for two under Adam Richardson.”

 

Sophie smiled warmly and began to search through the tablet that sat on the podium in front of her. A frown spread slowly across her face. She flicked back and forth across the screen for a few moments more before looking up at Adam. “I’m so sorry. I’ve looked several times and we don’t seem to have you listed here. When did you make the reservation?”

 

Adam ran his hand through his hair, his unease nearly palpable. “Yesterday evening.”

 

The hostess grimaced. “That would explain it.” Rosemary watched as Adam shot her a confused look. Catching his expression, Sophie carried on. “Our server crashed last night and several of the reservations for today disappeared. Give me a moment to see what we can do.” She tapped on the screen before her, scrunching her face as she flipped through the screen once more. “We’ve got about a 45 minute wait at this point…If you don’t mind, I can add you to the list and we’ll grab you when we’ve got an opening.”

 

He turned to face Rosemary, “Is that alright?”

 

She hesitated. This would be the perfect time to suggest something else, anywhere else, but the naked hope in his eyes made her pause. He’d been looking forward to this, here with her, and she couldn’t bright herself to take that from him. Not now. “Yes,” she answered after another moment's hesitation. She could feel the warmth radiating from him at her response; the way his eyes lit and his smile grew. But his joy did little to quam her own unease. “That’s fine.” She left Adam to settle things with the hostess and headed back outside, basking in the warmth of the warm June evening. She needed air, and suddenly needed it desperately.

 

This had not been how she’d hoped the evening would go at all. She was glad to be able to have the time to sit and talk, really talk, with Adam again. But  _ dinner _ …And  _ here _ …She didn’t know if her uneasiness stemmed from the former or the later, and she was scared to look too closely at it to find out. A groaned left her lips and she rubbed the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. She could feel the threat of a headache blooming and prayed in vain that it would hold off for just a little while longer.

 

It was several minutes later before Adam joined her on the pavement directly outside the restaurant and they stood for several moments without speaking. She knew the tension was rolling off her in waves, he would have to be blind to not notice it. But she couldn’t seem to make herself relax, no matter how she tried. Finally, she took a deep breath and asked the question that had been rolling around her mind since they’d arrived. She had thought she knew the answer, but needed to be sure. Needed to hear it from him. “Why here?” She started, her eyes locking with his. “What made you pick here?”

 

He cleared his throat, his face falling ever so slightly. “We loved this place.” His voice was quiet, so soft that she had to strain to hear him. He cleared his throat and continued uneasily, “I just...I thought it would be nice.” 

 

Rosemary could see his uncertainty and felt horrible for saying anything at all. She hadn’t meant to be so blunt in her asking, she just wanted to know. Needed to know. There had been a heaviness tied to the evening, she’d sensed it from the moment he’d suggested dinner a handful of days ago. Lunch had been one thing, she knew what to expect from that. But dinner... _ Stop it _ , she hissed at herself.  _ Just stop it _ . 

 

“It is,” She told him, with a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I just...I’m sorry. There’s been a lot going on and my obviously not handling it as well as I hoped to be.” Maybe this had been a mistake.

 

“I know.” He reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently, offering her a small, tentative smile. “I know.” 

 

They stood in silence for a long while, the sounds of the city echoing around them. “So,” Rosemary started, turning back to face him. “How’s the conference going?” She hated reverting to small talk with someone she had once known so well but didn’t know what else to do or to say. So much had happened in the year they’d spent apart and as much as she hated to admit it, she knew that were very likely different people than they had once been. And she hated it, hating no longer feeling as though she truly knew the man standing beside her. Hated the loss of that bond. 

 

Adam chuckled ruefully and she could see in his eyes that he felt the distance between them as well. A distance neither seemed to be sure how to cross. “About as well as you’d expect.” He answered with a shrug. “We had our last day today.”

 

She quirked an eyebrow, “Oh?”

 

He nodded but didn’t elaborate further. 

 

“So I guess you’ll be headed back soon…To the States, I mean.” Rosemary wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that. The conflicting emotions that thought brought forth made her head swim. 

 

Adam’s face was a mix of uncertainty and concern. “Not quite yet…There’s a bit of business at the main London office that I’ve been recruited to help out on.” He paused and smiled at her. “So you’re not shot of me just yet.”

 

She laughed in earnest at that, fighting to ignore the thrill of elation and dread that coursed through her. “Duly noted.”

 

The silence descended once again. Rosemary allowed herself to study Adam’s profile as he stood beside her. He truly was a handsome man, she’d always thought so. But he had always been more than that. He was a kind soul but wickedly funny. She could see the faint lines that creased his brow, undoubtedly from the stress of his work, but mixed amongst them were the familiar laugh lines that she’d known so well. He was so different and yet still so very much the same. Rosemary watched him rock slowly back and forth on his heels. She could sense there was more he wanted to say, more that he wanted to discuss with her, but something was holding him back. She felt ashamed at the small flicker of gratitude that flooded through her at whatever was causing him to hold his tongue.

 

Rosemary looked up as Adam cleared his throat. He turned to face her with a small smile. “I’m going to go in and check on our progress. Back in a tick.” She nodded and watched him head off towards the main entrance. 

 

A sigh feel off her lips. Maybe coming had been a mistake. With all that had been happening how could dragging Adam into her life make anything at all better? But she couldn’t leave, didn’t want to. Not really. Not now. She owed him, and honestly herself, this much. Rosemary rubbed her temples with her hands. Good god, her head was a mess. 

 

She jumped as the loud buzz and ring of her phone sounded from inside her purse. She cursed as she dug through the bag, searching in frenzied earnest for the damned thing. _ I really must get around to organizing this bleeding thing _ , she thought as she dug through the various, and somehow always necessary, items that littered the large purse.

 

“Ah ha!” She breathed, pulling the phone out at last. Her eyes darted to the screen and she felt her heart stutter as she processed the name flashing on the screen. Her finger swiped quickly across the screen and she brought the phone to her ear. “Tom?” She breathed into the receiver, heart still beating rapidly in her chest. 

 

She’d missed him, god how she had missed him. She hadn’t realized just how badly until that moment. The thought pulled her up short. She may have missed him but she could have...No…She  _ should _ have called to tell him so. She’d meant to; had so badly wanted to…But she hadn’t and that was entirely on her. 

 

_ Stop it, _ she told herself.  _ You can’t change any of it. So just stop. He is here. Now. Just stop.  _

 

Rosemary shook herself back into the present, a small but warm smile spreading across her face as she heard him rambling. It was an adorable yet infuriating habit of his. One that she had so desperately missed.  “…I interrupting anything, I didn’t even think about the time difference. God, what time is it there?” The anxiety was palpable in his voice and once again she felt terrible for not calling him earlier. For not reaching out sooner. Like she had promised him she would. She’d wanted to, god knows she’d wanted to, but everything in her life had seemed to be conspiring against her. Every time she’d pulled her phone out determined to follow it through, something or someone had come demanding her attention.  _ Round and round we go _ . 

 

She found herself laughing despite herself, a touch of her own anxiety clear in the sound of it. She hoped he wouldn’t catch it. Quietly, she pushed open the door and walked into the quiet, small entrance hallway of the restaurant. London was a noisy city and now that she had Tom on the line, she didn’t want to miss a moment of his presence.  “It’s fine,” she reassured him. “I was just getting ready for dinner.” She glanced around the cramped hallway and ran a hand through her hair, it was the truth…Technically. “It’s going on eight here,” she added in afterthought, realizing she hadn’t answered before. She wondered briefly just where he was and what time it was there. Tom sounded utterly exhausted. 

 

“Oh good,” he answered, a breathless chuckle of his own echoing over the line. “I was terrified it was like two in the morning or some other horrendously late hour and you’d be dead asleep and cursing me out for waking you.” A spurt of laughter fell from her lips as he rambled on; despite the exhaustion she could hear in his voice there was a distinct note of nervousness. “How have you been?”

 

A sudden uncertainty crept through her at his innocent question and she wasn’t quite sure how to answer it. In truth she’d been a mess, but how could she possibly tell him that? “I’ve…I’ve been alright…Busy.” That at least had been the truth. But there was so much more that she needed to say and no idea how to even start to say it. “But I’m glad you called. I’ve been meaning to but with one thing and another…” she let her voice trail off, guilt choking her. She should have called him, should have reached out. Instead she’d left him hanging and now…She rubbed her forehead with her free hand. 

 

“I know a thing or two about busy, Rosie,” Tom laughed softly as he spoke and she felt her gut twist. “It’s completely fine. I’m just…” his voice trailed off for a moment and Rosemary held her breath. “It’s really nice to hear your voice.”

 

Her heart leapt in her chest. “It’s nice to hear yours too,” she answered honestly, her own voice gone soft with tender emotion. “How has the tour been going?” she asked, hoping to keep the tension from creeping back between them. She hated it, hated feeling so uneasy around him. God, she should have called sooner.  _ Stop it _ . “Where are you now, anyway?”

 

Rosemary caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and saw Adam waving to grab her attention.  _ Shit _ . 

 

“Rose,” he called, a smile painting his face. “They’ve managed to find us a table. Come on before the give it away.”

 

She felt herself freeze and without thinking clapped her hand over the end of her phone and answered, “Go in, Adam. I’ll be right there.” Adam’s smile waivered a bit but he nodded and headed back inside. 

 

“Tom?” she breathed, “I’m so, so sorry but I have to dash. Thank you for calling, I’ve missed you...” She cursed herself.  _ Too much _ . She didn’t want to leave this as it was. There was so much they needed to talk about. So much she needed to say. But there wasn’t time now. But when he got back… “You’re home sometime next week, right?” 

 

There was silence on his end of the line and she wondered if maybe she had pushed too far. But then he was back. “Yes. Late Friday afternoon if all goes according to plan.” She thought there was something off with his tone, but wasn’t sure. He hadn’t answered what time it was, it could be late and he could be tired. That would explain it, she hoped. 

 

“Good,” she breathed. “Good. Listen, after you get back can we meet up...I...There’s something I want to talk with you about.” The question tripped off her tongue and she felt like a prize fool, stuttering and stammering at him. But the words were out now and she couldn’t fix them.

 

“Oh…” His tone was definitely off. But a moment later he sounded fair bit more upbeat than she’d expected. “Alright. I’ll call you after I’ve settled and we can maybe meet up for a coffee.” She couldn’t shake her own unease at his change in demeanor. It was too abrupt, too forced. Fuck, she’d made a right mess of this and she hadn’t even started. 

 

Rosemary choked down her own anxiety and answered, “That sounds like a plan...I’ll see you soon.” She pulled the phone from her ear and hit end before she allowed herself to think further on it.  _ Dammit. Dammit. Dammit _ . Forcing herself to take a deep breath, she shoved her phone back into her bag and hurried inside to find Adam. 

 

He was waiting for her by the hostess station and extended an arm as she approached. Rosemary allowed herself to accept it as they were led to a small table near the back of the restaurant. They were left with a cheery smile and menus to peruse. Rosemary sat, draping the strap of her bag across the back of her chair, and plucked up a menu to bury her face behind. She watched over its top as Adam settled into his own seat, menu in hand. How many times had they done this? How many evenings and afternoons and late mornings had she passed with him, here, content? Hundreds most likely. And now here they were again. It was both exhilarating and terrifying, especially now when she wasn’t sure where they stood. What any of this actually meant.

 

Adam placed the menu softly on the table and smiled gently at her. “I’m pretty certain nothing here has changed over much.”

 

Rosemary nodded, “No, not really. It was quite a shock how similar things were last time I was here.”

 

A curious look crossed Adam’s features, “When were you here last?” 

 

It was an innocuous question but something in his eyes made Rosemary hesitate before answering. “A month or so back...I went with a friend,” she admitted finally. 

 

“Oh.”

 

Rosemary cleared her throat awkwardly, “It was a surprise. I didn’t know we were coming until we turned up at the door.” She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to justify any of this to him, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. “But no,” she continued on, “it really hasn’t changed all that much.”

 

Adam nodded silently and Rosemary very much regretted opening her mouth at all. Was she going to stick her foot firmly in her mouth like this the entire night? A petite red-head, Chloe her name tag proclaimed, chose that moment to approach their table. She quickly introduced herself and made a prompt spiel of the days’ specials before asking if they were in fact ready to order. Adam exchanged a glance with Rosemary who nodded. 

 

Once their orders were placed and Chloe had left with their menus, Adam turned his attention back to Rosemary. She felt flushed under his gaze, uneasy and tense, and she could clearly see the storm of uncertainty in his eyes. She wanted desperately to ask him what he wanted, what was wrong, but was scared half to death of actually knowing. She hated that feeling, hated that she felt so uncomfortable and uncertain with a man she had once thought could be her forever. 

 

But he said nothing and neither did she. 

 

Chloe returned after several minutes with their drinks which served to break some of the tension between them. “Rose,” Adam started once Chloe had walked away. Rosemary raised her eyes to his in silent question. “I had a solid plan in mind for tonight. I knew just what I was going to say and what I hoped you would say in return.” He laughed quietly to himself and took a quick sip of his drink before clearing his throat and continuing. “But now that we’re here...That you’re here...I don’t know how to start.”

 

Rosemary blinked at him before taking a sip of her own drink. “Whatever it is, Adam, just say it. It can’t be that bad, can it?” Her voice held far more confidence that she felt. But whatever he had to say she knew things would not rest well between them until he said it. 

 

Adam rubbed the side of his neck with his hand. “You make it sound so easy.” He paused, dropping his hand back into his lap. “I’ve been thinking a lot since we parted. About so many things. And not a day goes by that I don’t regret not asking you to come with me. We were happy, we worked, but I was scared….So ridiculously scared that if I asked you wouldn’t choose me, choose us. So I didn’t say anything and then you didn’t say anything either and then it was too late.” His eyes bore into hers, pleading with her to understand what he meant, why he needed to say this now. “I love you, Rose. I always have. I know that at one point you loved me too. And I know it’s probably too little and far too late, but I wanted to know if you thought of me too. If you regretted it as well. And if you did, do you think we could try again. See if there is anything left for us to build on.”

 

“Oh Adam.” His name tumbled from her lips in a choked whisper. She could feel herself flash between hot and cold as dread, elation, confusion, and despair flooded through her in large, arcing circles. She didn’t know what to say, what to think. “Adam,” she started again, her voice a touch stronger, “Oh Adam...How could we try this when you aren’t going to be here…” It had been the first coherent thing to pop into her head. His life was in America now, her’s was here. There would still be an ocean between both physically and she feared emotionally too.  _ Why now? _

 

Adam rubbed the back of his neck and took a quick sip of water. Seeming to gather himself, he leaned forward and asked, “But what if I’m not.”

 

She stared at him in stunned confusion as his words slowly sank in. “Wh-what?”

 

He cleared his throat. “The office here…They have an opening…” he trailed off hopefully. 

 

Rosemary felt her heart clench in her chest. This had been everything she had wanted, everything she had hoped to hear in those first six months after he had gone. But not now; now it was far, far too late. She wanted to scream at the injustice of it all. Wanted to cry as she looked at the man sitting before her, a good man who loved her, but he wasn’t the right man. She opened her mouth to respond, to tell him not to take the job, not if it was just for her. Not to do any of this for just her. But Adam raised his hand to silence her. 

 

“No,” he started, “Please don’t answer me now. I know I’ve thrown a lot at you. Too much probably. But please don’t answer now. Just think about it. Take a couple of days and just think. Please.”

 

Rosemary shut her mouth and nodded. She knew her answer now and knew in her heart that a day or two would make no difference. But she knew he had his pride and she couldn’t bring herself to crush it, not then. Not like this. Not in this place with both their nerves so frayed. No, she would give him tonight. 


	18. EIGHTEEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are at the last full chapter. We’ve just got the epilogue to go after this. I can’t believe we’re actually here. 
> 
> First and foremost, a huge shout out and massive thank you to [RedKitsune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedKitsune/pseuds/RedKitsune) without whom I doubt this story would have reached this point. Thank you for listening to me rant and rave and for letting me throw ideas at you and honestly for throwing your own back at me. Thank you, my friend, for loving these idiots just as much, if not more, as I do. 
> 
> And a shout to goes to Tina0609 who inadvertently inspired how this chapter ended by asking just the right questions at just the right tim.

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

 

Rosemary stared idly at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time that day. It was just after six in the evening and she found herself wondering, again, if Tom had made it safely back home. She found herself staring longingly at her phone, wanting desperately to call him just to make sure for herself that all was well. But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. He promised her he would call when he was settled and she had no right to rush him. She knew all too well how drained he must be, she’d seen for herself how hard he pushed on these things in the past (she sincerely doubted much had changed in the intervening years), and the last thing he needed was her invading on his chance to unwind; to settle back into his skin. To get back to himself.

 

But god, she was so sorely tempted. 

 

A frustrated sigh fell from her lips and she tossed her phone across the couch. Looking at it was doing absolutely nothing to settle her nerves. She ran a hand through her hair, blowing the strands that had fallen out of the ponytail she’d pulled it into that morning from her forehead.  _ Sitting here and fretting isn’t exactly helping either _ , she mused wryly. She wasn’t sure what to do but she was certain if she didn’t do  _ something  _ she would surely lose her mind. She snorted a laugh.  _ Not that you’ve got much left to lose. _

 

With a sigh of resignation, Rosemary reached for the remote which sat on the edge of the coffee table. As distractions went, television wasn’t exactly the best but it was at least something. And with the way she was feeling, she would gladly take whatever she could get. Several tours around the stations and she finally settled on a comedy program. What it was called or was happening on her screen she couldn’t say with any degree of accuracy; the program wasn’t one she really needed to follow with any true attentiveness. But it was a distraction nonetheless and she was glad for it. Settling herself further into the couch, Rosemary forced herself to relax and stare at the screen. Soon she was laughing along with the audience though she still hadn’t a clue what was actually happening.

 

She jumped as a rhythmic knock sounded on her door twenty minutes later. Confusion crossed her features as she pushed herself off the couch and to her feet. She hadn’t been expecting anyone. Jules was out with Nick, Hanna was at the store, and she hadn’t made plans with anyone that she could remember. But with the way her mind had been lately... She shook her head, clearing her thoughts forcing herself to plaster on a smile to greet whomever it was who demanded her attention. She crossed the living room in several quick strides; undoing the bolt and pulling open the door in one fluid motion. She blinked several times at the figure standing in the hall, not quite believing her eyes as recognition slowly began to dawn.

 

Tom stood in the doorway silhouetted by the dim light of the hallway, hands tucked firmly in the pockets of his dark jeans, uncertainty and unease painting his features. She breathed his name, relief and joy at the sight of him flooding through her. “I didn’t expect…I thought you said you were going to call first! Please tell me you didn’t come straight here from Heathrow.” It all came out in a breathless jumble and she winced at her own nervous eagerness. He looked exhausted; dark circles sat under his eyes, his hair roughly mused, and his clothing rumpled with wear. She doubted he’d slept much on the plane home.  _ And if he’d rushed straight here… _

 

He shook his head. “No, I stopped by the house first and dropped off my bags. I didn’t want to drag them on the underground; learned my lesson well with that one.” He paused, a soft laugh on his lips, and ran a shaky hand through his hair. “Sorry I didn’t call. I know I should have…” 

 

“Its fine,” Rosemary blurted out, in an effort to stop his nervous rambling. She cringed, it had come out far louder and shorter than she’d intended. She took a deep breath before continuing. “Honestly, Tom, it’s fine. Please, come in.” She stood to the side and ushered him inside. He offered her a small smile and the first threads of unease crept through her. The smile hadn’t reached his eyes. 

 

Half way through the door, Tom froze. She couldn’t read the expression on his face as his eyes locked on something ahead of him. Silently, she followed his gaze but couldn’t think what could have caught his attention in such a fashion. The room wasn’t as clean as she’d like; a few bits and bobs tossed along the backs of the couch and surrounding chairs, several books lay haphazardly on the coffee table, and several pairs of shoes loitered by the door. But look as she might, there wasn’t anything she could see that would put him so obviously on edge. 

 

“Tom?” she asked, quietly, afraid if she spoke too loudly he would spook and run. If he’d heard her speak his name he certainly didn’t acknowledge it. She spoke it again, slightly louder this time, and saw him jump slightly at the sound. His eyes locked briefly with hers, confusion and pain in them that she didn’t understand. “Tom what’s…?”

 

“I’m too late, aren’t I?” The words were spoken so quietly that she had to strain to hear them. 

 

“What?” She breathed in confusion.

 

Tom spoke again, voice noticeably louder but still shaky. “I…I’m too late.” He cleared his throat, hands now clenched at his sides. “I...I’m sorry, I should have called first. I just hoped…” He ran a hand through his hair once more, staring pointedly at the ground as he tried to gather himself. “Am I too late?” He asked again, voice gone soft once more, pleading and desperate.

 

She stared at him, dumbly.  _ Too late? _ His words echoed in her mind.  _ Too late for what? _ None of this was making any sort of sense. “Tom, what are you talking about?”

 

He walked quietly into her flat, pausing before the back of one of the chairs. Gently, he picked up the jacket that had been lying haphazardly across it, holding it tightly in his hand. He turned it over once. Twice. A cold dread settled in her stomach as she recognized it; Adam’s jacket. His eyes rose to hers, his expression unreadable. “I know I’m the farthest thing from a safe bet and that I’ve hurt you far more than I can ever, ever begin to remedy,” He paused, staring down briefly at the jacket in his hands before raising them once more. “And I know you and Adam have a history, that he is good for you; probably far better than I ever could be. But I have to try. I would never be able to live with myself if I didn’t try. Please tell me it’s not too late for me to try.”

 

“Tom…” His name falls from her lips in a quiet whisper of confusion and she watched as he stood, shifting his weight slowly from foot to foot. She didn’t know what to say, couldn’t seem to begin to process just what was happening. 

 

After several agonizing moments, she watched as an unreadable emotion crept slowly across his face, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. She saw his hands clench tightly at his side, the jacket falling from them into a heap on the floor, before he roughly shoved them into his pockets. His eyes rose to hers, determination shining in them. He took two cautious steps towards her. “Please,” he whispered, pulling his hand up to touch her face. “Please tell me it’s not too late.” She leaned unconsciously into his touch, reveling in the warmth of his fingertips against her skin. “Please. Pick me. Choose me. Love me.”

 

His lips pressed gently to hers. It was a slow, quiet, undemanding gesture; a simple plea for understanding. She felt herself melt into him, her mouth opening to his. A quick gasp slipped from her throat as he deepened the kiss, his hand tangling slowly in her hair, holding her to him. And just as quickly as it started, Tom pulled away. His eyes searched hers as she stared at him wordlessly. 

 

“He left,” she breathed out, tilting her head to the jacket that had slipped from Tom’s hand to the floor. “Three days ago. He asked me to try again, told me that there was an opening at the office here that was his if he wanted it.”

 

Tom pulled away, the unreadable expression back in his eyes. “When is he back?” The words were spoken simply, with no discernable emotion, but she could feel their intensity clearly. 

 

She shook her head violently. “He’s not,” she blurted, watching as he jumped at the fierceness of her tone. “At least I don’t think he is...” she trailed off, shaking her head. She raised her eyes back to his and took a steadying breath. “I told him no, Tom. He was wonderful and for a time what he and I had was wonderful, but it’s over now. It’s been over for a long while. If he had asked me a year ago, if he decided to stay then…I don’t know…But he’s not what I want. Not anymore.”

 

Confusion was clearly painted across his features. He swallowed thickly several times. “I don’t understand.”

 

Rosemary laughed despite herself, feeling the familiar burn of impending tears. She swallowed thickly and tried to put her thoughts into some form of coherency. “Tom, there isn’t a choice. There never has been.” She watched as the confusion darkened in his eyes and carried on, hoping to make him understand; to make him see. “And I think my heart always knew that. It just took a while for my stubborn brain to catch up.” She reached up and traced her finger along his stubbled jaw. “I love you. You may not be the smartest choice or the safest one, but you’re the only one I want to make.”

 

“Are you…” Tom paused, swallowing several times before continuing. “Are you sure?” She could clearly see the hope lingering in his eyes, though it was tinged with a weariness and an uncertainty that broke her heart. 

 

She nodded. “Very much so.”

 

He kissed her again in earnest and she laughed into his mouth. It was an imperfect kiss; more of a desperate press of mouths and the bite of teeth, but wonderful for all of its imperfection. Rosemary let herself melt into him, her arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. When they parted for air, she found herself staring into his eyes and basked in the warmth she found there. She would stay like this forever if she could. 

 

“I love you,” he whispered into her hair, pulling her tighter against him. She rested her head against his chest, relaxing against the steady thump of his heart against her ear. “I love you so much.”

 

“I love you, too,” she echoed, wrapping her arms tighter around his waist. 

 

She felt rather than saw the powerful yawn that escaped him and found herself muffling her laughter into his chest. She pushed herself back enough to look once more into his face. Her fingertips traced the dark circles under his eyes. “You’re exhausted.”

 

He laughed softly, eyes crinkling. “Just a bit,” he admitted, tracing random patterns on the skin of her arm. She shivered at the sensation. “It’s been a rough week.”

 

Rosemary felt her insides clench at that. Whatever stresses he normally carried during such a run workwise she’d only added to with her own uncertainty. “I’m sorry.”

 

Tom shook his head, “Don’t be. I’ve been running on fumes for the last few days or so, not your fault.” He reached up and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, smiling at her. She leaned once more into his touch. Another long yawn fell from his lips and she shook her head. 

 

Carefully, Rosemary turned and wrapped an arm around his waist, wordlessly guiding him towards the couch. He sat obligingly and pulled her down beside him, pressing her against his side once more. “Much better,” he mumbled into her hair.  

 

“You need to sleep,” she scolded, gently, resting her head on his shoulder. 

 

He nodded against her and yawned again, this time not bothering to stifle it. “Probably.”

 

Rosemary pulled back enough to study his tired profile. “Do you want to sleep here?” She watched him nod in response, eyes drifting closed. He scooted down on the couch, resting his head against its back and pulled her once more fully against his side. She sighed, “Tom that cannot be comfortable.”

 

“Don’t care,” he mumbled, sleepily, pulling her tighter against him. 

 

She poked his side causing him to jerk reflexively and open his eyes. “You can’t sleep here Tom; you’ll kill your neck. I can barely sleep on this thing and I’m at least a foot shorter than you.” She poked him again as his eyes began to droop once more. “Come on, up you go.”

 

“But I wanna stay here,” he murmured, a soft pout forming on his lips.

 

She laughed and continued to poke at him, “The bed will be much comfier.”

 

“Only if you’re in it.” The words were innocently spoken and she knew he was far too tired to mean anything by them but in the most literal of terms. They still sent a small thrill through her.  _ Later _ , she told herself.  _ There will be plenty of time for all of that later _ . 

 

“Up you go, Hiddleston,” she encouraged, pushing against the near dead weight of his arm. “Come on now.” She continued to poke and prod at him until he was at last on his feet. 

 

Leaning heavily against her, she led them both down the hall towards her bedroom. She grimaced slightly when she noticed she’d never bothered to make the bed that morning but quickly let the thought go. Somehow, she doubted he would care over much. She got him to the side of the bed and he sat down heavily. 

 

“Alright, shoes off.” 

 

He obediently toed off his grey boots.  _ God, he really does wear them all the time _ . 

 

“Do you want to sleep in your jeans?” She fought the blush that spread across her cheeks at the question. It wasn’t as if she’d never seen him undressed. But it had been such a long time. Tom shook his head and fumbled with his belt and the button and zip of the jeans before lifting his hips enough to pull them down and off. Without further prompting he laid himself down, curling his feet up under the bedraggled covers. Satisfied that he was settled, Rosemary stood to head back into the living room. He was bone tired and the last thing she wanted to do was disturb his rest in any way. “Where’re you going?” she heard him mumbled from beneath the sheet he’d managed to pull up over himself. 

 

“Back to the living room,” she answered, honestly. He pulled the sheet down and looked her with pleading eyes. “You need to sleep, Tom.”

 

“No. Stay. Please.” He sleepily patted the spot beside him. “Want you here with me.” His eyes were heavy lidded but she could clearly see the pleading in them.

 

Knowing there was little she could do to dissuade him, Rosemary sighed and nodded. She padded to the dresser in the far corner and grabbed a tank top and a loose pair of sleep pants. If she was going to settle to bed then she might as well be comfortable. She heard Tom’s grunt of concern as she headed towards the bathroom to change. “I thought you were going to sleep with me.” She flushed once again at the words, knowing they were innocently spoken even as her mind wandered down much more sensual paths.

 

She held up her sleep clothes, “I need to change. I’ll be right back. I promise.” He nodded and she padded into the bathroom. Changing quickly, Rosemary dropped her jeans and shirt in the hamper by the door and headed towards back towards her room and the bed. Carefully, she climbed over Tom’s prone form and settled onto the open space beside him. She smiled as his arms quickly snaked over her, pulling her against him. He nuzzled into her shoulder with a small sigh of contentment. She closed her own eyes, enjoying the warmth of his body pressed tightly against hers. 

 

As she lay in his arms she thought about everything that had happened. And all that they would need to talk about come morning. There were so many things between them that she knew they would have to address sooner rather than later. So much they still needed to talk about. But there was little that she could do about any of it at that time. And worrying over it wouldn’t help. She listened to his breathing slowly even out as sleep finally claimed him.  _ Later, we’ll have time for all of that later _ . For now, she contented herself to enjoy the simple peace that was them just as they were. Her eyes slowly grew heavier as her own weariness took hold. She fought it for as long as she could, wanting to stay awake and listen to the slow and steady breathing that was proof positive that he was here with her. But weariness won out in the end, her eyes fluttering closed as she snuggled deeper into his embrace. 

 

Rosemary woke several hours later, the warmth of a solid, sleeping body behind her. Disorientation overwhelmed her and she fought to remember why the feel of a body behind her wasn’t cause for alarm.  _ Tom _ , her tired brain provided after several uncertain moments.  _ It’s Tom _ . In flashes the previous evening’s events flooded back. She loved him, he loved her. He was here with her and for now, all was well. She smiled at the memory and pressed herself tighter into his sleeping embrace. He was warm and safe and she could easily stay like this forever. Slowly though, her body reminded her just why she’d woken in the first place; bladder screaming loudly for relief. She sighed, knowing she couldn’t ignore it any longer. 

 

With great care, she maneuvered herself out of the tangle of Tom’s limbs, a feat as he had somehow managed to lock himself firmly around her in his sleep, and stumbled clumsily into the bathroom. She didn’t bother switching on the light, having every intention of climbing directly back into bed and eking out as much sleep as she possibly could. She washed her hands quickly once she’d finished, drying them absently on the towel hanging by the sink. She noted with a furrowed brow that her throat was scratchy with thirst.  _ Water _ , she thought blearily. 

 

Still half asleep, Rosemary puttered down the hall and into the kitchen, not bothering to flip on the light. Feeling around, she managed to grope until her fingers brushed against the handle of the refrigerator, pulling it open and grabbing a bottle of water. She opened it and took several long swallows before recapping it and heading back down the hall towards the bedroom. 

 

She paused momentarily, leaning against the doorway to watch his still slumbering form. The sheet had fallen low on his hips and he’d managed to pull off his shirt sometime in the night. She admired his chest and shoulders appreciatively. He really was a beautifully formed man. Her gaze came next to his face, still and peaceful. Sleep had a gone a long way in smoothing out the lines of tension on his forehead and a small smile played on his closed lips. He looked so innocent, so peaceful. 

 

_ He’s yours _ . The thought brought a smile to her lips.  _ Mine _ . 

 

She stood for several minutes more, simply watching him. God, he was truly stunning. A soft groan fell from his lips as he shifted once more. Rosemary saw his eyes flutter open and laughed softly at the confusion that seemed to swim in their sleepy blue depths. The sound caught Tom’s attention and his eyes rose to her. “Why’re you not in bed?” His voice was slightly slurred and roughened with sleep and it sent a shiver down her spine. Rosemary smiled softly at him and held up her bottle of water. Tom nodded and returned the smile before patting the empty space beside him. “Come back to bed. Need you.”

 

Her heart fluttered at the words and she quickly moved to follow his direction. Bottle set with its cap tightly sealed on the bed stand, Rosemary climbed back into bed beside him. It took him mere moments to pull her tightly against him, his chin resting warmly on her shoulder. 

 

“Much better,” he breathed, placing an open mouthed kiss against her skin. A shiver ran through her and she could feel his soft laughter vibrating against the flesh of her shoulder. He raised his head to hers, leaning in to press his lips against her mouth. Rosemary sighed into the kiss, enjoying the sensations that coursed through her. Tom’s hand rose and he let his fingers trace the line of her jaw as he deepened the kiss; his tongue brushing against hers.

They both rolled so that Rosemary’s back was firmly against the mattress and Tom’s warm weight rested deliciously above her. She laughed warmly as they broke apart, waggling her eyebrows at him. He answered with a cock of his brow, pressing her more firmly into the mattress with his hips. A strangled groan fell from her lips as the hard length of his erection pressed against the juncture of her thighs. He kissed her soundly, tongue dancing with her own. She let her own hands wander up his back, her nails digging ever so gently into the skin of his back, her hips raising to meet his of their own accord. She needed friction, needed him desperately.

Tom chuckled against her lips, pulling back enough to study her face before moving down to suck the soft skin of her neck. Rosemary whimpered at the contact, her body arching up against his. His hips met hers with a shallow thrust, his own breath coming in pants against her throat. Wordlessly, he pulled back enough to get his hands between them, his fingers curling against the hem of her sleep tank. A quick tug and she sat up enough to allow him to pull it swiftly up and off. He smirked at her and tossed it over his shoulder, eyes darkening as they took in the sight of her bared chest, heaving as she worked to catch her breath.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, bending his head down to capture a nipple between his lips. Rosemary released a hiss of breath at the contact, her back arching into him. God, she had missed the feel of him against her; touching her, tasting her, teasing her. It had been far, far too long. Her hands tangled in his hair as he sucked and licked first one breast and then the other. Soft, needy whimpers and moans spilled from her lips which only seemed to spar him on. 

 

His hands roamed slowly from her sides, down the curve of her waist to settle on her hips, his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of her sleep pants and her knickers. He tugged gently and Rosemary obligingly lifted her hips, allowing him to pull the obstructing garments down and off. He moved then, trailing open mouthed kisses down her chest and onto the soft expanse of her stomach. She shivered as his tongue traced the line of her belly button before trailing ever lower. 

 

Rosemary felt herself tense in anticipation. His name fell from her lips in both plea and prayer as his lips brushed against her folds. “Oh god,” she breathed, her hips arching into his mouth. It had been far, far too long. Desire coiled tightly in her belly. Her fingers dug once more into his hair, holding him against her. Needing more. Higher and higher he worked her until she felt the pressure inside her burst in a blinding sensation of light and color. Her breathing came in sharp pants and she felt as if she were exploding into hundreds of tiny pieces. 

 

She came back to herself slowly, feeling the blood pounding in her ears and her heart thudding in her chest. His bright blue eyes locked on hers, hooded with deep seated desire. Wordlessly, he climbed up her body to kiss her deeply. She could feel his hips pressing into hers, skin to skin. He must have shed his boxers without her noticing. “I love you,” he whispered against her lips. “So much.” She opened her legs more fully to him, delighting as he settled himself more firmly between them. 

 

With a smooth, slow thrust he sheathed himself inside of her. Rosemary dropped her head back in pleasure at the delicious friction and fullness. Tom held himself there, fully seated inside her for several moments, his eyes closed, breath coming in gasping pants against the shell of her ear. She pulled back enough to study his face before raising her head up to claim his lips with her own, and thrust back against him. She needed him to  _ move _ . A strangled groan erupted from his chest and he slowly began to rock his hips into her with determination. She squeezed around him, pulling a hiss from his lips. “More,” she breathed. She felt rather than heard his soft, rumbling laughter as he worked to oblige her request. Faster and faster he rocked his hips against hers. Pushing himself deeper. She could feel the tension in his back beneath her wandering hands; could feel the telltale burn of another orgasm low in her stomach, building with each strong thrust of his hips against her own. 

 

Her name fell from his lips like a prayer as his hips sped then faltered in their rhythm. Sped then faltered again. He was close and, god, so was she. Rosemary worked to meet him thrust for thrust, needing to feel him fall to pieces against her. Needing to join him. And suddenly the world contracted to a pinpoint; color and sound drowning out as wave after wave of pleasure overwhelmed her. She could vaguely feel the jerk of Tom’s hips against her and the shudder that ran through his body as his own release claimed him. 

 

She felt the warm weight of him pressing against her, his sweat dampened hair resting against her shoulder as his breathing slowed. “Thank you.” The words were whispered so softly that she’d had to strain to hear them. 

 

“I think I should be the one thanking you,” she answered in a breathless laugh.

 

Tom pushed himself up on one arm, his eyes locking on hers, a small smile on his face. Rosemary found herself reaching out to trace the lines that etched around the corners of his eyes. “And you’re quite welcome,” he answered with a laugh of his own. “But that wasn’t what I meant.”

 

Rosemary arched an eyebrow at him, a silent request for him to elaborate.

 

“I love you,” he started, moving his other hand to brush away a lock of hair from her face before he leant down to kiss her once more. “Thank you for giving me a second chance to do so.”


	19. EPILOGUE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are at the end of this particular journey. It’s been quite a ride and I’m both thrilled to have made it and sad it’s over. 
> 
> This isn’t all we’ll hear from Tom and Rosie. I have ideas in mind that I look forward to playing with. Thank you again for reading and enjoying. It means the world. 
> 
> I wanted to give a huge thank you/shout out once more to [RedKitsune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedKitsune/pseuds/RedKitsune) without whom I seriously doubt this story would be what it is. Thank you again for being my sounding board, cheerleader, and for loving and believing in these two idiots even when I wasn’t sure I could.

**EPILOGUE**

  
  


Tom’s flight should have landed nearly two hours ago, if all had gone according to schedule. He was supposed to call when he’d cleared customs and settled into his hire car. But it had been nearly an hour now and so far she’d heard nothing. Rosemary found herself pacing the living room, nervous energy pulsing through her. It was stupid, honestly, worrying like this, and she well knew it. Most likely it was nothing.. The flight could have been delayed (there were nasty storms brewing in New York when he’d been set to depart), customs could be a nightmare (it often was at the best of times, especially if multiple flights landed at once), traffic from London could be hellish (especially at this time of day); there were literally dozens of reasons for why he hadn’t called yet and not all of them were bad. She knew this but it did little to lessen her worry. 

 

It had been a long six weeks, and though she had gotten used to the idea of Tom being away for long stretches of time because of his work, his absence was most assuredly taking its toll. She’d missed him fiercely. Bobby barked at her heels, sensing her nervousness. She laughed softly, stopping her pacing to scratch the spaniel affectionately on his head. “I know, buddy boy, your daddy will be home soon.” He barked once and settled himself on the dog bed nearest the window, head resting on his paws and large dark eyes watching her intently. 

 

She’d gotten Bobby out of the kennel the day before, knowing it took the spaniel a bit of time to get reacquainted with his space after being away for a while. Tom would have enough on his plate upon returning home; dealing with an energetic and ever curious dog was the last thing he would be up for. Besides, she loved the mutt to pieces and he seemed just as fond of her. Not to mention staying over the night before allowed her to air out his house; to make sure he had food in the pantry and fridge, that his mail was sorted, and that all he would need to do was eat and sleep if he wanted. It was a small bit of peace and she was grateful to give it when she could. 

 

Bobby barked loudly again as the ringing of her mobile echoed through the room. She scrambled towards the couch where she had tossed the blasted thing in a fit of pique twenty minutes before. A smile crossed her face as she saw Tom’s name and picture flashing across the screen. She quickly swiped across the screen to answer, pulling the phone to her ear. “Tom,” she breathed happily into the receiver.

 

“Rosie, love,” he answered. His voice was gravely with fatigue and weariness. “I’ve missed you.”

 

She smiled. “I’ve missed you too.” She could hear the faint sounds of traffic from his end of the line. Tom was obviously on the move and the thought warmed her heart. He’d be home soon. “How far away are you?”

 

There was pause as Tom asked the driver. She could hear but not quite make out the muffled response. After a few moments she heard Tom clear his throat. “About half an hour, if the traffic holds off.” Her heart warmed at his words. “So close,” he murmured, “Yet so far.”

 

“You should try to sleep a little,” she encouraged him. “You sound dead on your feet.”

 

He chuckled sleepily, “Maybe. But I sleep better next to you.” 

 

She smiled at his words. “Flatterer.”

 

“I speak nothing but the truth,” he answered, voice warm with soft laughter. He let out a sigh, “I know I promised I’d take you out when I got home…” The disappointment was clearly evident in his voice as he trailed off. 

 

“Tom,” she started, “I get it. I was frankly surprised you suggested it in the first place.” She paused, smiling softly. “You forget I know how exhausted you are coming off of a shot. I can easily order something in and you and I can eat once you’ve slept. There’s absolutely no need for you to drag yourself out when you’re shattered.”

 

A frustrated groan fell from his lips and she could so easily picture the way he rubbed the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. “I still feel like an ass, promising you something and then taking it back.”

 

“Don’t,” she scolded, “Tom, honestly its fine. You know I don’t need all of that. You and me and a takeaway on the couch is bliss as far as I’m concerned.”

 

“But still…” he trailed off before sighing. “Fine. We’ll stay in and have takeaway. But I will do something nice for you to make up for it.”

 

“You don’t have to.” She hoped he could see that she meant it. She didn’t need the fancy dinners or nights on the town. They were nice and she very much enjoyed them, but she didn’t need any of it. She was content with nights in with a takeaway, quiet walks in the park, or just spending time together with friends and family. The simple things were what she found important. As long as they were together, she found she didn’t much care what they did.

 

“I know,” he answered in a sleepy laugh, “but I’m going to regardless.”

 

She let out a sigh of her own, knowing there was no way she could win. He was a right stubborn git when he wanted to be. She loved him for it, even when it drove her up a wall (which it frequently did). They had butted heads many a time in the last year and a half, sometimes over simple things and sometimes not. They’d had their share of screaming matches and silent spells. Things hadn’t been perfect and for that she’d been grateful. Perfect wasn’t what she’d wanted and she doubted it was what he’d wanted either. 

 

There had been times, early on when she’d wondered if maybe he’d been right in leaving her that first time. The idea of trying to live in his world, even on its fringes, had been terrifying. Her first real brush with the darker side of his fan base had left her physically fine but emotionally shaken. A group of young women, she hadn’t really known how old they were only that they seemed a good deal younger than her own 34 years, had taken to following her from the underground to her shop one afternoon. They hadn’t said anything the entire time they’d walked behind her, but she could feel their stares pointedly on her back. It was unnerving. She had turned finally when she couldn’t take it anymore, ready to ask what if anything they’d wanted from her (an action that Tom had later told her was the worst thing she could have done) when they’d shouted abuse at her before turning on their heels and bounding off.  She’d tried to brush it off but couldn’t quite shake the sense of unease that she had not only been blatantly recognized but followed. And if they’d done it once, what was stopping it happening again? That thought had brought her up short. 

 

Things had gotten better as time had worn on, but there were times she found herself wondering just what she’d gotten herself into. It had taken her a while to voice these concerns to Tom, terrified that if she did so he would use it as an excuse to push her away again. And that was the absolute last thing she’d wanted. But he’d noticed her change in demeanor quickly enough and had called her on it. She’d broken down then and it had led to a heated argument that left them both fuming in anger. But they’d calmed soon enough and talked, really talked about everything; her fears and his, about what they both wanted, and what they were willing to give up to achieve it. It had been difficult and terrifying but they’d moved through it and, she fully believed, became stronger because of it. There were still times when he’d pull away and times when she would as well, but they’d both gotten better at reading those signs and at working to help each other through them. 

 

Six months into their fresh start, Tom had offered her with a key to his home. He was due to be on location for filming for at least three weeks and knowing the chaos that his life was about to descend into, wanted Rosemary to know she had a place to escape to if she needed. Life with him wasn’t easy, he’d known that and he’d wanted to offer her a sanctuary if he could. A quiet, safe place that she could use whenever she had need of it. “No pressure,” he’d told her. “I just want you to know that you can come and go as you please.” He paused before smiling and adding, “Plus it would honestly be nice to have someone I love to come home to.” 

 

It had taken her until the last few days of his filming for her to actually put the key to use. It had been strange, being in his home without him and she had to fight the feeling that she was intruding in his private sanctuary.  _ He wouldn’t have given it to you unless he meant it _ , she told herself. She hadn’t stayed long that first day, only enough to try to get his mail in some semblance of order and clean out the food in his refrigerator that had spoiled (a  truly frightening task). The next day she’d come bearing bags of groceries and had taken a small, quiet sort of pleasure in organizing his pantry and fridge for his return. 

 

The day of his scheduled return found her there once again, overnight bag in hand. He’d said he like someone to come home to. ‘ _ Someone I love’ _ . The words echoed in her mind and she’d smiled, getting the last of the bits and bobs organized so that he might be comfortable on his return. The look on his face when he opened the door to find her on the couch, curled up next to Bobby’s sleeping form had been nothing short of resplendent; surprise, joy, and a longing that burned steadily in his bright eyes. 

 

And from that moment on an unspoken routine had been formed. Whenever he would have to leave for an extended period of time, Rosemary would make sure to be there on his return. She would clean and organize; something he’d insisted more than once that she absolutely did not need to do; she was his partner, not his maid. Still, she’d done it all the same, wanting to show him in some small way just how much he meant to her. And she would look longingly forward to spending the next day after he arrived home curled up with him in bed, lounging and lazy and completely content. 

 

She’d offered him a key to hers as well not long after, and he’d made use of it often. There were many an evening she’d come home to find him spread out on her couch, a lazy, contented smile on his face. They’d cook a meal together, if they felt particularly adventurous, but more often than not just ordered in and spent the night curled on the couch, watching movies or simply talking. It was simple, and easy, and wonderful. 

 

But neither had broached the subject of making either living situation permanent. They had talked, at times about the future,  _ their _ future, but those plans had been cemented firmly in the ‘ _ someday _ ’. And that was fine; she wanted this to work, wanted them to work. She would be content with the scenic route, knowing that they were traveling it together and when that  _ someday _ turned into a  _ now _ she would be ready. 

 

“Love,” Tom’s voice cut through her thoughts, bringing her firmly back into the present. He broke off in a loud yawn. “God, I’m so sorry.”

 

Rosemary laughed, “It’s completely fine. I know you’ve got to be utterly exhausted.”

 

“I feel like I could sleep for a week,” he breathed with a soft laugh. “I should be pulling in any minute. God, I can’t wait to actually be home.”

 

She could feel the smile spreading across her face at the thought of being moments away from having him in her arms. “I’ll let you go then and see you in a moment.”

 

“Mmm,” he answered before the line went dead.

 

Beside her Bobby began to jump and bark once more, sensing the coming excitement. She knelt down and scratched his ears firmly. “You need to be a good boy for your daddy. He’s awfully tired.” The spaniel cocked his head to the side and barked once. She laughed. “Good enough.”

 

Outside, the sound of a car door closing echoed and Bobby immediately barked once and sprinted to the door where he continued to bark and bounce incessantly. Grumbling after him, Rosemary made it into the hallway as Tom’s keys rattled in the lock. The door pushed open and Tom pushed his way in, large suitcase in hand. She rushed forward, grabbing it from him and settling to the side of the entryway. The next moment her arms were around him, her face pressed against the warm skin of his neck. He let out a soft “oh” of surprise and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tighter against him, rocking them both slowly back and forth. 

 

They stood like this for several minutes, ignoring the way Bobby bounced and barked at their feet. Tom was the first to pull back, moving his hands to cup her face lightly, pulling her forward and kissing her soundly. “Hi,” he breathed against her lips.

 

“Hi,” she echoed before pressing her lips against his once more. Reluctantly, she pulled back once again, tilting her head up to stare up into Tom’s face. He tried and failed to stifle a yawn. Rosemary laughed and ran a hand through his already mused hair. “Let’s get you into bed.” 

 

Tom smiled softly at her. “Are you joining me?” He waggled his eyebrows at her in playful suggestion which was hampered slightly by a jaw cracking yawn. 

 

Rosemary laughed and shook her head, “Not just yet. I need to order dinner first and make sure Bobby’s settled.”

 

“And then?” He asked, hopefully.

 

“And then, my darling man, I will gladly join you in your bed.” She pulled back, rubbing him lightly on the arm. He let out a soft sigh of contentment at her touch. “Now, up to bed with you. Scoot.”

 

Tom grumbled good-naturedly and began his slow ascent up the stairs and to his bed. Rosemary smiled after him and turned back towards the kitchen in search of the menu for his local curry place,  _ The Spice Garden _ . She found it hanging on the fridge next to the goofy snapshots of his niece and sisters from the previous Christmas. Shaking her head, she pulled it down and headed into the living room for her phone. 

 

Once the food had been ordered, Rosemary padded up the stairs to check on Tom. She found him curled on his side, lightly snoring and half covered by the sheet. He’d shed all but his boxers and t-shirt in his haste to finally sleep. A smile spread slowly across her face at the sight. Reassured that he was resting comfortably, she padded back down the stairs and into the living room, settling on the couch to wait for the food delivery. Bobby jumped up beside her, curling up and resting his head on her thigh. They sat together until the buzz of the front gate sounded from the hall. She turned to the spaniel and scratched his ears. “Sorry buddy, duty calls.” 

 

Rosemary pushed herself up on her feet and headed towards the door. She hit the button for the gate, and upon confirming the man standing at the gate was in fact from  _ The Spice Garden _ , buzzed him in. She smiled brightly at him and signed before taking the bag and carrying it into the kitchen. She took the cartons from the bag one by one and stored them in the fridge before calling Bobby to her side. 

 

“Alright, bathroom time. Let’s go.” 

 

Bobby barked once and followed her to from the kitchen towards the back hall. Ten minutes later, business completed and every bush and flower bed thoroughly sniffed, Bobby trotted back into the house.    

 

She shot a glance at the clock hanging on the far wall, almost half nine. Stretching her arms above her head, Rosemary headed for the stairs and the warmth of Tom’s bed. She heard him groan something unintelligible as the mattress shifted under her weight and felt his strong arms lock around her, pulling her tightly into his embrace. Pillowing her head on his chest, she closed her eyes and let herself drift off. 

 

When Rosemary blinked awake what felt like moments later, the bed beside her was empty and cool. She pushed herself up on her elbow and glanced around the room. “Tom?” she called out. No response. She rubbed her eyes and rolled over to the edge of the bed. It took several tries to get herself up on her feet.  She stretched her arms over her head, letting out a powerful yawn before padding slowly towards the opened door. “Tom?” she called again.

 

“Down here!” His voice echoed up the stairs.

 

She padded out of the bedroom and down the stairs to find Tom standing in the kitchen before the microwave, heating a portion of his curry. She stifled a yawn as she headed into the kitchen “What time is it?” 

 

He turned around and smiled at her, glancing quickly at the watch on his wrist, “Just after two.” He held up the half empty container. “Hungry?” 

 

Rosemary nodded. “That sounds divine.” She moved past Tom to grab a bowl from the overhead cabinet. Tom reached out and took the bowl from her, scooping the remaining portion of food into it. “Sleep well?”

 

Tom nodded, pulling his food from the microwave and popping hers in. “Very well. Helps that I woke up with a gorgeous woman in my bed.” He padded back to her side, kissing her gently on the cheek. “Best way to wake up.”

 

“Flatterer.”

 

He smirked, “Only the truth, my love.”  Rosemary rolled her eyes at him, pulling her now heated meal from the beeping microwave. She hissed as the bowl burned her fingers and quickly deposited it on the counter before turning on her heel and seeking spoon and oven mitt. “Here,” Tom called out, taking the bowl from the counter and lifting it gingerly, “let me.” He grabbed his own bowl and led both out into the living room, setting them on the coffee table once there.

 

“I am perfectly capable, Tom.”

 

He quirked an eyebrow, “I know you are, I still wanted to help.” He dropped himself on his couch and patted the seat beside him. “Now come on before it starts getting cold.”

 

With a good natured grumble, she climbed onto the couch beside him handing him the other spoon she’d grabbed. Tom nodded in thanks and bent his head to his meal. She smirked and did the same. They ate in silence for several minutes as Bobby sat on the floor before them, showing his best imitation of a starving animal; all wide eyes and pleading looks. Rosemary nudged him gently with her foot. “You’ve eaten, you big oaf.”

 

“Bottomless pit that one,” Tom chimed in, between bites.

 

Rosemary rolled her eyes, “Takes after his master in that way, huh?”

 

Tom shot her an affronted look, “You wound me, my lady.”

 

She let out a snort at that. “Somehow I think you’ll survive.”

 

“So cruel,” he muttered with a shake of his head.

 

Rosemary laughed and shot back, “And yet, you love me.”

 

There was a definite pause before he answered. “Yes.” That pulled Rosemary’s attention from her meal towards Tom. She watched as he sat quietly on the couch eyes now focused on his nearly empty bowl. She raised an eyebrow. Several quiet moments later he asked, “Are you finished?” with a nod towards her bowl. Wordlessly, she handed it to him wondering at what had brought such an immediate change to his demeanor when he’d been perfectly fine moments before.

 

She cleared her throat as she watched him prepare to stand. “Tom?” He paused briefly and turned his attention back towards her. “Is everything alright?”

 

Tom let out a quiet laugh. “Yeah…Yes.” He put both bowls on the table and turned in his seat to face her fully. “I um…There is something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

 

Rosemary felt ice form in her gut as the quiet fear that this, now, was the time when he’d finally decided that he couldn’t do this any longer. It had quieted significantly over the last year and a half, becoming only a small, indistinct murmur that she barely noticed. There, but not constant. Now...Now it roared violently to life. “Oh,” she breathed, hoping her voice wasn’t a feeble as it sounded to her own ears. 

 

Tom started at that, eyes widening. “Oh God, no…No. Please don’t…I don’t mean,” he blurted, rambling on with a palpable anxiety. He stopped and gathered himself before continuing. “Rosie, love, it’s nothing bad. Please, please don’t fret…I just wanted…God, I am completely fucking this up.” He dropped his head in his hands and groaned before straightening once again. He took a deep breath and ran his hands through his mused hair. 

 

Rosemary watched him warily, trying to calm her own racing heart. “Tom…”

 

He took another deep breath before continuing. “I know I’m gone a lot and I can’t be the easiest person to be with because of that. And I know you love me. I hope you know just how much I love you.” He paused, smiling at his hands. “Having you here is nothing short of amazing, and I’m exceedingly grateful for everything you do for me, though you honestly don’t have to. I don’t want you to feel you need to do things for me to justify you being here.” He gestured vaguely around the room. “You are as much home to me as this place has ever been.” He broke off and laughed. “I guess what I’m trying and probably failing to say is that I want you here always and not just when I come back from being away. I want to make this not just my home, but ours. I know you have your little flat and that you love it. I do too and if you don’t want to give it up, you don’t have to. But would you consider it?” His eyes locked with hers, asking silently for understanding. “Living here, with me?”

 

She blinked in confusion as his words slowly started to sink in. He wanted her there, with him, permanently. The idea sent a bloom of warmth through her. “You want me to move in?” She asked wanting to make sure she had understood what he was asking her.

 

Tom nodded, “Yes…Very much so…But,” he started, taking her hand in his own, “only if you want to.”

 

Rosemary laughed softly and nodded her head, not quite trusting herself to speak just then.

 

A bright grin broke across Tom’s face and he pulled her tightly against him. “Thank you,” he whispered into her hair. “Thank you. Thank you. I love you.”

 

“I love you too,” she breathed back.    
  



End file.
